


In Pursuit

by zinjadu



Series: Knight-Errant [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Comrades in Arms, Crisis of Faith, Gen, On the Run, Promises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7880662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinjadu/pseuds/zinjadu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - The Jedi Who Knew Too Much.  Rex decides to stay "in pursuit" of his Commander; he jumps.  Now, with backup, Ahsoka navigates the lower levels and deals with Ventress.  Meanwhile, Anakin takes the Order to task, finds a little more support, and things turn out a little differently for everyone.  </p><p>And this is just the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Chase

Dimly, Rex thought that even though his Commander was on the run, dodging and reflecting stunner fire, she was a damned work of art in motion.

 

But he didn’t have time for that, because the clever thing was cutting her way into the pipes. She knew the _vod’e_ had the advantage of numbers, and on an open field like this one, they would (and did) surround her, force her into a corner and then they could capture her at their leisure. So, like her Master when stacked up against unfavorable odds, she changed the rules.

 

“Damn it,” Skywalker muttered. “Rex, we need to get down there, we need to find her first, you read me?”

 

“Loud and clear, sir, if anyone’s bringing her in, it’s _us_ ,” he agreed with a ferocity that surprised himself. He didn’t want to be doing this. Everything in him was screaming that this was wrong, the same instinct that warned him about Krell on Umbara. But this _would not_ turn out like that. The General was here, and between them, they could make this turn out all right. They had to.

 

They descended into the sewers, and although Rex’s brothers were good, they didn’t have a Jedi to trail along after. A Jedi who was the Master of the Padawan they were chasing ( _hunting like an animal,_ he thought sharply, and then tried to reign that in, his General needed him steady), and a man who could find her under tons of rock, let alone around a few corners.

 

Skywalker was quiet, intense, in a way that Rex had never seen before, and Rex didn’t blame him. They ran through the dimly lit pipes, eschewing stealth as the water at their feet prevented quiet, fast movement. One turn, then another, just behind his General, Rex ran.

 

Then there she was, outlined against an opening. An opening onto _nothing_. Skywalker was a good three meters closer, and Rex started advancing cautiously behind him. His Commander was a huntress through and through, and a too sudden movement on his part might lead her into bolting. He had to backup his General, and maybe between them, they could tackle her and bring her in themselves, make sure she didn’t suffer the likes of _Fox_.

 

Rex tamped down his rage, for the first time properly angry with a brother, a brother who didn’t know what it was like to serve in battle, to work with Jedi, who didn’t know what Ahoska Tano meant to the _vod’e_ who fought. He tried to project, instead, that steady calm that Jedi found easy to be around.

 

The General and the Commander were talking, but Rex was only half listening to the words. He was paying attention to the tone, the way they spoke, and everything that went unsaid. He had gotten pretty good at hearing the words Jedi _didn’t_ say.

 

Then he saw it, her feet shifted, she braced, and she jumped.

 

She jumped out into the unknown, into nothingness, without a plan, without backup.

 

And something in Rex snapped.

 

 _Like hell!_ he thought, and gritting his teeth, he ran to the end of the pipe, beating Skywalker to the end of it.

 

“Rex!” he heard Skywalker yell, unbelieving, voice high and strained, after having first seen his Padawan run from him, and then seeing his Captain, his solid, no-nonsense captain follow suit.

 

That cry nearly stopped him, because inside of it was the implicit order to _not_ , but Rex had become quite skilled at working around orders that he didn’t like. And he didn’t like this, any of it. There was something rotten and wrong about everything, from the bombing to the video, to the orders they had.

 

So. He would work around the orders again. Nothing new.

 

Without a jetpack, without a plan, without any idea how this would go, Rex jumped.

 

Because he had made a promise once, years ago and far from here, and he would be damned if he didn’t keep it.


	2. Backup

Anakin watched Rex leap, and sure that if Ahsoka’s jump had lodged his heart in his throat, this certainly was going to lead to his heart giving up, crawling out his mouth and beating its last right then and there. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take, and he started to draw on the Force, to bring Rex _back_ , but then the damned man commed him.

 

“I’m still in pursuit, sir,” Rex’s voice came over the Torrent Company comms, the ones Fives scrambled to hell and back, and Anakin could swear he heard a dry undertone in his Captain’s voice. That same tone that said louder than words _I’m doing what I think is right, and you better not stop me. Sir._

 

So Anakin let his Captain fall, and prayed to any god or goddess that would listen that the man knew what he was doing.

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka’s head jerked up when she heard Anakin’s cry, his strong voice cutting over the sound of the ships in the corridor. Frowning, she saw something, no, some _one_ falling toward her. Falling, and not going to make this jump. Then her eyes picked out the details, faster than she could think: Torrent company blue, antenna, jaig eyes, _Rex_.

 

“ _Stang!_ ” she exclaimed, and then rushed to the edge of the ship, and reached for him with the Force. He was falling fast, and she caught him in an arc, slowing his momentum and bringing him to rest on the ship next to her. Where she held him, stock-still.

 

They would be out of sight of the pipes soon, and already the other ships had obscured them from view, and she wondered what the hell his plan was, if he had no jetpack, no way to really get to her. Instead, it was almost like he had been counting on her to catch him.

 

She wanted to trust him, but Rex was a man of honor and duty. If he saw it as necessary to bring her in, she had no doubt that he would. He shifted, testing the limits of her hold on him, and found he could only move his head. Tilting his head, she knew he was doing something on his HUD, but she didn’t know what.

 

“General, I have a visual, I am following the target into the lower levels,” he said through his helmet’s vocoder, and her eyes widened as she realized what he had done. He was broadcasting the comm conversation for her, to let her listen. There was no reason for him to do that unless....

 

“Good job, Rex, keep on her,” she heard Anakin’s voice coming out of Rex’s helmet, in a weird combination of visual and auditory input.

 

“Yes, sir, though, I anticipate being out of contact soon. The armor is a dead giveaway,” he said easily, as though he were actually chasing her instead of pinned to the hull of a ship by her will.

 

“Copy that, Rex,” Anakin’s voice came through again, and then there was a sigh, and then a rustle, like he was holding the comm close and covered with one hand. “Take care of her, Rex,” he said, soft but intent.

 

“Always do, sir,” Rex said, half to her Master and half to her, she realized, his voice soft like he was speaking to a cornered animal. In a way, she supposed he was.

 

The ship was getting close to docking at its offloading destination, and she would have to move quickly. By now they knew what ship she was on, and where it would be. If she wasn’t fast or careful, there would be more _vod’e_ there to corral her. She knew that. And she had a choice to make, to trust Rex or not, when she had always been able to trust him without question before.

 

“Why?” she asked. “Why did you jump?”

 

“Because the Commander Tano I know wouldn’t treat brothers like they were nothing,” he said, and she could feel his eyes on her, even underneath the bucket. She knew then that he hadn’t lost faith in her, and that made her choice easy.

 

She let him up.

 

Standing, he shifted his shoulders slightly, and then took off his helmet. He gave her a quick glance, one dark eyebrow raised slightly, and then he tossed his helmet away.

 

“We’re going to need to do a few things, first, if you’re going to be on the run,” he said, like it was an every day thing, following his commander on a mad flight away from all authority. Then again, Rex was a practical man.

 

She nodded.

 

“First, I take it you think we need new clothes?” she asked lightly, surveying the landing platform, and seeing it blessedly empty. It would take some time to coordinate enough troopers to get to the lower levels. The one saving grace they had at the moment.

 

“That and rest and food for you,” he said, “and a few other things, but we’ll get to that. For now, we need to go to ground. Hole up and expose ourselves as little as possible. They’ll get around to more dedicated searching, but for right now they’re going to hope that you stay visible.”

 

“Probably will put a bounty out for me,” she said wryly. He nodded.

 

“Probably,” he agreed. “So, you ready, Commander?”

 

“Probably should stop calling me that, Rexter, all things considered,” she said, and shook herself, getting ready to jump and bring him with her. She looked around for a good place to land, some place where they could get away from this exposed area quickly.

 

“Hm, good point. Alright, then, Ahsoka, you see any good escape routes from here?” he asked, eyeing off the area with practiced ease.

 

“Yup, just over there,” she said, pointing with her chin instead of her hands, in case anyone was watching. It was an alleyway, just off the side of the docking port, and it looked like it disappeared in between two warehouses.

 

“Ready when you are,” he said, and braced like he had learned how to do around two Jedi who had a habit of throwing soldiers around at need. Though, to be fair, Skyguy did that way more than she did.

 

“On three,” she said, “one, two, three!” And she jumped, pulling Rex along in her Force-wake. She landed lightly, taking the impact through her toes and bending her knees so the shock was distributed through her whole body. Rex landed well, though more heavily, but he stood like he was fine. So he probably was.

 

They quickly made for the alleyway, and Ahsoka extended her Force senses, feeling for any other _vod’e_. It was always interesting how they all felt different, and the security forces felt different in general from the men who were on the front lines. But the area was clear of troopers, and they wove their way through darkened alleys, relying on hand gestures to communicate, staying as quiet as possible.

 

She wasn’t sure if she liked Rex’s advice, to hole up and hide for a little while, but she had to admit the idea of food and rest sounded too good to be true. If she had been on her own, she would have had to keep moving, unable to rest. But now, with Rex to back her up, it seemed like possibilities existed where none had before.

 

* * *

 

Anakin strode through the halls of the Jedi Temple, summarily summoned to report to the Council how a sixteen year old Padawan had managed to escape a full battalion of troopers, _and_ her own Master. However, as he thought about it, if Ahsoka wasn’t in so much trouble, he would be so proud of her right now. She had been amazing, running and deflecting stunner blasts, and changing tactics when things clearly hadn’t been working.

 

He had taught her well.

 

Maybe too well.

 

Or, rather, not well enough, came the thought, and he frowned.

 

He knew his own anger had gotten the better of him before. Once… once on Tatooine, and his mind shuddered away from that, locking it away in a little box. And again, when Poggle wouldn’t cooperate. Perhaps Ahsoka was following him too closely, no matter how hard he tried to hide his failings.

 

And with that disturbing thought, he ran into the man who had always seemed so perfect in the ways of the Jedi, his own former Master.

 

“Anakin, we do not have much time to speak, but I must know. Do you think she did it?” Obi-Wan asked hurriedly, his blue eyes intent.

 

“What? No! Ahsoka would never use the Force in that way, and she would never, _ever_ hurt a trooper. Those men are like brothers to her,” he said, and he once again felt a surge of pride for his apprentice. She was better at him than a lot of things, like being able to care for people without letting it distract her. Obi-Wan, focused on matters at hand, did not seem to notice Anakin’s internal emotional upheaval, and merely nodded.

 

“That is what I thought, and I agree with you. This is not the Ahsoka we know. I believe she is being framed, but I can only do so much as one being on the Council. I can help you in there, Anakin, but you must convince them that there is at least a shadow of a doubt about her guilt,” Obi-Wan said, and this time Anakin didn’t even mind that Obi-Wan used that _tone_ , the one that all but instructed him to be mindful of his elders.

 

“I’ll do my best, Master,” Anakin said, doing his best to rein in his rising sense of frustration, of anger, of near panic for his Padawan. Then Obi-Wan clasped his shoulder with a firm grip and squeezed.

 

“Whatever you do, Anakin, I will back your play,” Obi-Wan said, with such a raw honesty that Anakin almost felt embarrassed. Obi-Wan had never been one for displays of affection before, but after Mandalore he had come back a changed man. Not that many people saw, but Anakin did. He was going to have to get the full story out of his former Master one day, but not this day.

 

“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” he said, throat feeling constricted, and then he let his Master’s touch and presence steady him as he done when he had been small. Breathing out slowly, he nodded, and Obi-Wan let his hand fall away, but the warmth of the touch lingered, and Anakin took comfort in that.

 

“Wait five minutes after I enter,” Obi-Wan said, and then stroked his beard and shot him that damned sly smile. “We wouldn’t want them to think we were _colluding_ of all things. Think of the impropriety of that.” In spite of himself, Anakin felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards in a half-formed grin.

 

“Anything but that, Master,” Anakin said, matching Obi-Wan’s sly look.

 

Then, with a swift nod, Obi-Wan turned and entered the council chambers, leaving Anakin to breathe and contemplate just what he was going to say to the Council, to the assembled Masters who were ready to throw his Padawan to the wolves, or Tarkin, but they seemed one and the same to him.

 

 _Respectful_ , he growled at himself. _I’ll respect them into backing down if that’s what it takes. Anything, anything for her_.

 

He hoped it would be enough.

 

He feared it would not be.

 

But she wasn’t alone out there, he knew, with Rex backing her up, there to remind her that there were people who had faith in her. And he wasn’t alone here, either, with Obi-Wan backing him up with the Council. Because in spite of everything he had done, and all the grief he had caused his Master, Anakin finally realized something, standing outside the doors that had once seemed so imposing to a nine year old boy: Obi-Wan had faith in _him_.

 

Feeling a more than a little shocked at that revelation, he almost lost track of time, but then a little buzz reminded him that five minutes had gone by, and he walked through the doors, no longer afraid.


	3. Doubts

Ahsoka closed her eyes, her hand flat against the side of the warehouse, and she sank into the Force. Rex was at her back, his head on a swivel keeping watch over her as she determined if anyone was inside. She blocked out his presence, that steady, watchfulness with more than a touch of violence shimmering underneath, and focused on what was on the other side of the wall. Questing with her mind, she sought out the bright, colorful sparks that would indicate sentient lifeforms inside, but all she found were the dimmer, washed out lights of rodents and the singular red streak that was a loth-cat.

 

She smiled at feeling that, the little hunter reminding her of a simpler time when it had just been her, a spear and an akul.

 

Opening her eyes, she turned to Rex and nodded. He returned her nod, and slunk out from behind the crates they were hiding behind and made his way to the door. Testing it, she heard the unmistakable sound of a well-locked door. He gave a low, slow whistle, then, and she knew that sound. It was one of the Torrent company calls that were used on the rare occasions when their communications were knocked out.

 

 _Stay put_ , was the meaning of that one. As much as she riled at the idea of _staying put_ , she knew it was right. He likely was checking to see if it was clear, if they would be easily caught while she attempted to use the Force to unlock the door, and in doing so, possibly be exposed to detection.

 

So she waited, and tried not to bounce on her toes. She had gotten better at not fidgeting. Anakin was no good for teaching that. Master Kenobi had been teaching her stillness, and she drew on Master Ti’s teaching about how to become like the turu-grass to lend her further calm.

 

Then there was another whistle, this one sharp and almost preemptory: _Move up._

 

Coming around the side of the crates, she made her way to where Rex stood by the door, leaning against the wall on the far side of it, blocking her from easy viewing as the alleyway opened up onto a street. Crouching down to make her profile smaller, she placed hand on the door and felt for the mechanism. It was electronic, and being the Padawan of Anakin Skywalker certainly came in handy. She didn’t have his knack for machines and electronic systems, but he had taught her some very useful tricks.

 

With a little surge of will, she made it think she was friendly, and it opened for her. Much better than the standard Jedi tactic of frying the electronics. This way, they could lock the door behind them, and hopefully avoid detection for a little longer.

 

The door swung open, and she dashed inside, Rex following on her heels. The door shut behind them, with a soft click, and she felt the tension leave her shoulders. Even Rex felt calmer.

 

“Well, I suppose this is home base for a little while,” she said, trying to make her tone light, but knowing that she couldn’t fool Rex. But that wasn’t the point, and he would know that, too.

 

“Seems like it, but we’ve been in worse,” he said, giving her a soldier’s grin, sharp and dry and exasperated all at the same time. Then he gave the place a quick glance and clearly approved. “There’s tools in here, which is good for what we’re going to have to do next, before we see to food, clothes and rest.”

 

“What’s that?” she asked, feeling a thread of trepidation worm through her senses. Rex _felt_ calm, but almost too calm.

 

“I need you to cut out my ident chip.”

 

* * *

 

“Thank you for your report, Knight Skywalker,” Mace Windu said, his tone and demeanor telling Anakin that the Master clearly thought they were done here. But as far as Anakin was concerned, they were far from through.

 

“If I may, Masters?” he asked, doing his level best to keep his tone properly deferential, instead of the tone that only barely concealed his frustration. He even ducked his head a little, to show he could wait on their leave. Of course, they let him dangle for a few moments, no doubt casting each other significant glances loaded with meaning and wisdom.

 

“Speak on your Padawan’s behalf, you may,” Master Yoda said, and Anakin bowed to the Grand Master of the Order, which made those green ears twitch with, he could have sworn, amusement.

 

“Thank you,” he said, and for once didn’t have to pretend that he was grateful. Drawing himself up, he tried to look confident, collected, and not like he was about to let his emotions get the better of him. He couldn’t do that, not now, not with Ahsoka’s life on the line. Out the corner of his eye, he caught Obi-Wan watching him, for all intents and purposes as reserved and collected as any member of the council, but Anakin could feel a thread of anticipation, of urging, as if his Master was telling him to go for it, to run the gauntlet and make them doubt their own certainty.

 

“I know how dire this is, Masters, do not think I am unaware of the danger the Sith pose to the Jedi, to the Republic, and to the galaxy as a whole. The darkside must be opposed, in that, I agree with you whole heartedly,” he said, and part of him wondered where these words were coming from, but then he knew. _Padme_. Watching her in action, listening to her practice her Senate speeches, it was almost like she was with him, coaching him, cheering him on as he had done for her.

 

“But,” he continued, holding up a hand, like had seen Bail Organa do, “but we cannot let suspicion cloud our judgment. The darkside itself does that enough as it is. Instead, I ask that we strive to see with eyes unclouded by suspicion. I know the evidence against her appears overwhelming, but every last piece of it goes against everything I know her to be as a person and Jedi Padawan.” He then got a bit of inspiration, and looked to Master Koon, bowing.

 

“Master Koon, you were the one who found Ahsoka, who brought her to the Temple, and have you ever known her to be vindictive? Fierce on the battlefield, yes, but never cruel, on or off the field. Never hard hearted enough to Force choke a woman, unarmed and alone in a cell,” he said. Then he looked at Master Ti, not even trying to gauge Koon’s reaction. He plowed ahead, refusing to stop, refusing to let one wrong look make him falter. Ahsoka couldn’t afford a misstep here.

 

“Master Ti, you trained Ahsoka on Shili, you were with her for her akul-hunt, a time she speaks of fondly,” he said. “In that time, I know she trained with others, and did she ever treat them poorly? Did she ever sacrifice others for her own gain?” That time he saw something rise the Master’s eyes, something thoughtful and intent.

 

“I know many of you have fought with Ahsoka during this war, and in all that time, has she ever given you reason to doubt her loyalty or her devotion not just to the Republic, but for everything the Jedi stand for, everything it is to _be_ a Jedi,” he said, and he felt a swell of pride in his chest at that, at thinking about how _good_ she was, and how much better she could be. Better than him, he knew that.

 

“Be that as it may,” Windu said, leaning forward, and Anakin felt the momentum taken from him, and he recognized the tactic. He had paused a moment too long, and Windu swept in, redirecting the conversation where he wanted it to go. “While we do not doubt that Padawan Tano has been a loyal Jedi and good soldier in the past, no one can say for sure what is in another’s mind, Knight Skywalker. When suspicion of the darkside is raised, we must pursue it, no matter where it leads. You must have faith that the Order and this Council will find the truth.”

 

Anakin clenched his jaw tight at that, and it was a wonder that his teeth didn’t crack from the pressure. He felt his breathing quicken, and his flesh and blood hand ached to become a fist. Because they were going to do it, they were going to throw her Tarkin and let him eviscerate her. To think, he had liked the man!

 

“It is difficult, Masters, to have faith in this body, in the Order, when you do not have faith, in return, in those who have served you well,” he said, and the second he said it, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. It was brash and angry and everything _shouldn’t_ be.

 

And Ahsoka would bear the consequences of his failings.

 

He could almost _feel_ Obi-Wan’s exasperated sigh at his former Padawan’s impetuous nature, and Anakin didn’t blame him. Not this time.

 

Then, a miracle happened.

 

“Tell me, Knight Skywalker,” Master Ti said, in that serene, lilting voice of hers. “If we should have faith in Ahsoka Tano, why did your captain remain in pursuit of her?” He turned to face her, and although her Togrtua markings were different than Ahsoka’s he could tell by her slightly raised brow and the twitch of her lekku that she was deeply interested in this question. Almost like she knew the answer would help Ahsoka.

 

“Hm, yes, I agree. I, too, would like to understand your captain’s actions. By all accounts, they are good friends,” Master Koon said. “In my experience, however, the clones do not take kindly to anyone who kills their brothers.” At that, Anakin _knew_ he had cast doubt on Ahsoka’s guilt for some of them at least. He felt like crowing in victory, because they had handed him the perfect opportunity.

 

“Captain Rex, like you say, works hard to protect his brothers in the field, and he did jump, officially stating that he was remaining in pursuit of Ahsoka,” Anakin said, then he took a breath. “However, from my understanding of the man, he is not actually in pursuit. He’s backing her up out there, and keeping her safe.”

 

“And you did not report this?!” Master Tiin decried, leaning forward, deep voice rumbling with disapproval.

 

“I did not report this to the _Republic_ military command, because it would likely get Rex sent to reconditioning, or worse,” Anakin said hotly, and that made the larger Jedi Master blink and recoil slightly. “I report this to you, Masters, because you understand there is more to the clones than being mere soldiers. They are good men, valiant and brave and honorable. And Rex is one of the best, you all know his reputation in the army and among the men. Well, the man jumped, he jumped out of that pipe without a jetpack, and not on a trajectory to land next to Ahsoka, because he trusted her, because he has faith in her. He knew she wouldn’t kill an unarmed woman, he knew she would never harm troopers, and he knew she would catch him. And she did,” he declared.

 

There was a deafening silence after that, and Anakin took a deep breath, hoping that he had done enough. That he had planted the seeds of doubt about Ahsoka’s guilt, and that they would try to see her for what she was, not what they feared she might be.

 

* * *

 

“No kriffing way, Rex!” she said, turning her back on him to rifle through the various things in the warehouse. There was a tool bench, which she was not going to go near now, now that Rex was intent on being really crazy. Instead, she found some old jumpsuits, and wondered if one would be her size. Now, if only she could find something to cover her montrals, to at least disguise the pattern.

 

“No choice, Ahsoka,” he said, removing his armor like he hadn’t just asked her to cut into his flesh and remove his identity chip. “They’ll eventually figure out I’m not tracking you down, and when they do, all they have to do is ping for my ID. Here, on Coruscant, they’ll find me in no time. If they find me, they find you, and that makes this whole thing pointless.”

 

She looked down at the jumpsuits, selected one and threw it at him, giving some vent to her frustration.

 

“And even if I clear my name, Rex, they could send you to recondition for that, and we both know what that really means!” she said, through clenched teeth. The horror she felt at the idea was almost palpable. “I’m not going to help you destroy yourself. I’m not worth it, Rex. Maybe you should go, I can… I can do this on my own.”

 

“Ahsoka,” he said evenly, looking down at her with those bright golden eyes of his, eyes that reminded her of the hawks on Shili. “I will not leave you. Not when you need help. You’re part of the 501st, and every member of the 501st is worth the effort.” Part of her wanted to cry at that, to know that she wasn’t alone, that she had friends good enough to not leave her alone. Instead, she sucked in a breath and looked back up at him, as though answering a challenge.

 

“Fine,” she said, voice clipped. “Make sure your knife is sharp and sterile. I’m still not great at Force healing, so I’ll find some bandages. I can probably help nudge it along, but I won’t be able to close it completely.”

 

She turned on her heel and started rummaging around in a supply closet, and did find a small kit, complete with bandages, some disinfectant, and a few other handy medical items besides. Kix had insisted that every one in the 501st know some basic field medicine, and since medical technically outranked command, Ahsoka had learned right along with the rest of the battalion. Skyguy had gotten out of it somehow, though.

 

When she returned to the main workroom, she found Rex had stripped off all of his armor and sat calmly on a stool next to a workbench. He had rolled up the sleeve of his body suit and propped his left arm up on the bench. The knife was resting at the end of the bench, waiting for her. She bought herself some time, fussing with the medical supplies, but eventually she couldn’t put it off any longer.

 

“Alright, I know its in the forearm, but do you have any more direction for me?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound shaky. She was about to cut into her _friend_. This day was going from bad to worse to insane.

 

“It’s about here,” he said, pointing to the area about a handspan below his wrist, away from all those veins, thankfully, but still a delicate area to knife into. “And we should tie my arm to the bench. I’d rather not trust in my heightened pain tolerance for this. I like having an arm, and a flinch would be bad.”

 

“Right,” she said abstractedly, and set about to tying down his arm with some of the binding material in the workspace, making sure it would hold as best as she could manage it. He tested the bonds a little, and then nodded at her, apparently satisfied. She certainly wasn’t satisfied with any of this.

 

Picking up the knife, she held it in her hand and considered it. It was small, though deadly sharp, a good thing for any soldier to have. He had gotten her one of her own, when he found out she didn’t have one. Her knife was in her quarters still, ready to be grabbed at a moment’s notice, like the rest of her meager possessions, in case a mission came in.

 

“Ahsoka,” he said softly, breaking into her thoughts. He looked worried, not for himself, but for her. “I trust you. Come on, do this, and we can put on those jump suits and find some food. Don’t know about you, but I could eat a whole cake.” She felt the corners of her lips twitch up at that.

 

“You and me both, Rexter,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt, but she gripped the knife firmly and held onto his wrist to guide her.

 

Quickly, she made a long cut down his arm, the flesh parting sickeningly. He sucked in a sharp breath, and she glanced up at him, but he only looking pointedly at his wrist. Taking the hint, she got back to work. She opened the wound a little more, and then put the knife down sensing for the metal buried in his flesh, and she found it, _there_. With her mind, she gently tugged at it, loosening it from the muscles in his arm, and with a final pull, it came free.

 

Rex grunted, his whole body rigid in pain, but he held still.

 

Then she reached back into the Force, and instead of focusing on moving something her mind, she directed the energy of the Living Force into his arm. Before their eyes, the wound started to close, the blood no longer seeping out, and she poured some of her own energy into it, trying to make him whole, make him _better_. His free hand reached out then and shook her sharply.

 

“Ahsoka, stop it!” he said, voice almost angry. “I know what you’re doing, and you need to stop!”

 

But she couldn’t. They had all suffered so much, for what? To be cut apart, shot down, to protect the Jedi. Well, she could protect them—

 

And then Rex shoved her away with all his rather considerable strength. She fell to the floor, sprawled awkwardly, but too dizzy to get up.

 

“You damned reckless…” he was muttered, “Just like him, as if one wasn’t bad enough.” She watched him undo the bindings and test his arm, closing and opening his fist. With a huff, he stepped over to her, hauled her to her feet and sat her on the stool. She tried not to look at the bloodstain on the workbench, but her eyes felt drawn to it. There, more blood spilt on her behalf, when she already had three deaths on her conscience, even if she hadn’t done the killing.

 

He left her there, and for a time, she felt her mind swirl with thoughts. Some part of her knew it was simply a reaction to the stress and pushing herself too hard with healing Rex, but it was easy to ignore that, and pay attention to the guilt, the fear.

 

When he appeared in her line of vision again, he was in one of the jumpsuits, no doubt his blasters secreted somewhere, along with the knife. She also noticed the hammer in his hand, and he quickly smashed his chip. Then he turned to her like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

 

“Alright, here’s a jumpsuit that might fit you,” he said, throwing it at her, shocking her out of her thoughts. “Now, we’re going to go find you some food. I know that dazed look. Between escaping and healing me, you’ve pushed yourself too hard. Put that on, I’ll be just over there,” he said, pointing to the far wall, giving her some semblance of privacy.

 

Mechanically, she stripped and wiggled into the jumpsuit, pulling the ends over her boots. Rex had been able to use some old workboots, but there were none small enough for her feet, so at least she got to keep those. She also removed her headdress, tucking it into a pocket. There was no hiding her montrals, but now she certainly didn’t look like a Jedi.

 

Once changed, she started to feel a little better, able to put behind her what she had done to a friend. Yes, he had all but demanded she do it, and it made tactical sense. But it sat at a wrong angle in her mind, that.

 

“Alright, Rex, I’m good to go,” she called, and he looked up at her and seemed to examine her for a moment. She must have passed muster because he stood and then handed her something else. It wasn’t a hood, like the cowl of her Jedi robe, but a strip of synthaleather that he had cut little holes in and shaped to look like some of the head wear Togruta wore when they did a lot of outdoor work, to keep their montrals from too much sun exposure. It draped over her montrals and down her lekku, obscuring the patterns.

 

“There, now we should fly under the radar nicely,” he said.

 

“Well, how’s it sit?” she asked dryly, putting it on. He gave her a crooked smile at that.

 

“Rather becoming, I’d say,” he drawled. “But then, I’m biased.” She huffed in amusement, but shook her head.

 

“Don’t quit your day job, Rex. I don’t think you’re ready for the world of fashion design,” she teased.

 

“Well, there goes my hopes and dreams,” he said, joking right back. “Well, if you’re steady enough to snark, then I’d say you’re steady enough to go get some food. We probably shouldn’t come back here to rest, though its tempting. Only one problem, though.”

 

“What’s that?” she asked.

 

“Neither of us have untraceable creds, and the only places I know where to get free food on this planet is 79’s and the barracks. Don’t think either would be ideal at the moment. Any ideas?” he asked. She thought about it for a few moments, wondering where the hell they could secure food that they wouldn’t have to steal. Even setting aside stealing being wrong, stealing was also likely to get them caught.

 

Turning the problem over in her mind, she realized that they didn’t need to steal or beg or even risk one of the public food halls, where anyone on the planet could get their constitutionally guaranteed food supplies, no matter how much money they had. All they needed, really, was good timing.

 

She smiled like a huntress.

 

“Oh, I’ve got an idea,” she said. Rex sighed.


	4. Fortified

Obi-Wan could not help but feel pride as he watched his former apprentice bow himself out of the Council chambers. Anakin had performed admirably. Very much himself, yes, with that comment about faith, but as far as Skywalker anger induced comments went, it was a rather good one. It also had the virtue of being true.

 

Now, Obi-Wan had to capitalize on Anakin’s work.

 

He had some inkling that Masters Ti and Koon were already on the fence, if not on their side already. Rex’s actions spoke louder than some words, especially to those who worked closely on an almost daily basis with the troopers. As for Kit, it was always hard to tell. In spite of his easygoing nature, he was surprisingly conservative at times about the role the Jedi were meant to play.

 

Once upon a time, Obi-Wan thought the same way, but so much of this war had soured what had once seemed unshakable ideals. That, and perhaps he had finally begun to understand Qui-Gon’s more unorthodox lessons, and the ideas contained therein.

 

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. And now was the time to toss the dice. Qui-Gon had always been a bit of a gambler, and it seemed some things rubbed off, even years after the fact.

 

“Masters,” he began. “I believe Knight Skywalker has given us much to ponder. I would not want us to make a hasty decision, not on so important a matter.” He hoped that was a mild enough opening, with a mental thank you to Bail Organa’s inadvertent lessons in politics. He well knew that coming out too hard too fast would put Windu on guard. Softly, softly was the key around Mace Windu.

 

“I was under the impression we had already made our decision. Ahsoka Tano broke out of a Republic military detention facility and _allegedly_ ,” Windu said, emphasizing the word as though he was placating Obi-Wan, bowing to the idea of innocent until proven guilty without adhering to its spirit. “Killed two troopers. It is not our jurisdiction.”

 

“But she is a Jedi, and certainly we must be cautious of precedent,” Obi-Wan countered. “If we allow one our own, especially one who is young and thus more vulnerable, to be treated in a matter such as this, what else do we open ourselves up to?”

 

The glare Mace Windu shot him for that line of reasoning was absolutely delightful. Obi-Wan strove to keep the smirk off of his face, and instead maintain a properly serious and thoughtful countenance.

 

“Master Kenobi makes a good point,” Koon said, his clawed hands held together before his face. In spite of the goggles and mask, Obi-Wan thought that Koon looked especially thoughtful at the moment. “Though we must bend if we are not to break, I wonder if we must tie ourselves in knots. We must be able to stand again, once this is done, and I begin to doubt that we could do so if we simply handed Padawan Tano over to Tarkin’s less than tender mercies.”

 

“I agree,” Master Ti said, a note of eagerness in her voice, as though she had been waiting for the moment to strike. “Further, the actions of Captain Rex indicate that our understanding of the situation is incomplete. Unlike Knight Skywalker, whose judgment is undoubtedly compromised, the troopers are forthright men. They would not aid someone who they believe to be a traitor. Indeed, Captain Rex has been instrumental in apprehending two traitors already. His actions, for me, cast doubt upon Padawan Tano’s guilt.”

 

“Could she not have suborned him, somehow? Were she to use the powers of the darkside, she could control his mind,” Master Koth said, and Obi-Wan was not surprised. Koth admired Windu greatly, and echoed the man’s concern about darkside use.

 

Obi-Wan was about to step in, to clarify a few things. One, that Rex had requested Anakin to help him learn how to resist mind manipulation. Two, he doubted that mind manipulation could work at the kind of distance that was between Ahsoka and Rex when the trooper had jumped. Proximity mattered, at least for initial control.

 

But then, he had a surprising ally.

 

“She would have had to have been laying the groundwork for such control for a long time, to control him at that distance,” Master Mundi said, shaking his head. “More, had she that kind of control over that distance, why did she simply not command him to let her out, rather than the elaborate and dangerous escape? Your logic simply doesn’t follow. Indeed, much about this does not follow, the more I ponder it.”

 

“You are likely correct, Master Mundi,” Master Rancisis said in his odd, chambered voice. “However, who can know the mind of one who wields the darkside or the limits of their power? The old dictates remind us that we cannot hesitate when confronted with the Sith. We must act swiftly or all could be lost. And if we must make concessions to the Republic in order to accomplish that, well, it must be done though I have no fondness for it.”

 

“I am afraid I agree with Master Rancisis,” Master Kcaj said, shaking his head as though in sorrow, and Obi-Wan knew this was going to be a close one. And so far Master Yoda stayed silent. Then again, the Grand Master of the Order often let them hash it out and listened closely before making a final decision. Whether it was because he wanted to hear all sides or to save himself all the arguing, however, Obi-Wan never could tell. Likely, it was both.

 

“Yes, those who might have used the darkside cannot be tolerated. Perhaps it was our own fault, forcing Skywalker to take a Padawan and the both of them so young, but she must be held responsible for her own choices,” Master Tiin said, his deep voice somber.

 

“I wonder at that,” Kit said. Obi-Wan did have a hard time thinking of him as Master Fisto, because Kit had always been… Kit. But now, Obi-Wan was on the metaphorical edge of his seat. He had started his ball rolling, but others were running with it, even in spite of the opposition. He hoped Kit would see what was really going on, as he often did.

 

“I recall a young woman who did everything she could to save lives, who risked herself and found a way to win without destroying others. I recall a young woman, brave and level headed under pressure with a grave responsibility,” Kit said softly, as though he were musing to himself. Then he smiled, that bright, easy smile of his. “She took the hard path, as she does again, and so we must take the hard path as well. We must have faith, if faith is to be had in us, yes?”

 

“That is less than helpful, Master Fisto,” Windu all but growled. Kit only smiled at that, which probably annoyed Windu all the more. Obi-Wan made a mental note to thank Kit later. “Now it is down to Master Gallia and Master Yoda, otherwise we are split. I hope you can all see the path you are leading us down. The politics of this situation are delicate enough as it is. Were we to push our own agenda on the Senate, we could risk alienating those we might need later.”

 

Obi-Wan knew who that was for, Master Gallia, the woman who lived and breathed politics. The woman they sent to the Senate when the Jedi needed something, and the woman Senators hid from when she walked the halls.

 

Gallia, for her part, looked thoughtfully at Windu, tilting her head to the side, letting the seedpods of her Tholothian headdress sway behind her. Then she looked to Obi-Wan, her dark blue eyes opaque. What she was looking for, he could not say, but eventually she found it, because she returned her attention to the Council and spoke.

 

“You are correct, Master Windu, that the politics of this situation suggest that we acquiesce to the demands of Republic military command,” she began, nodding to Windu, who nodded back.

 

“However,” she went on, holding up one hand in a placating guesture, and Obi-Wan could feel Windu’s frustration rising. He tried not to feel smug and failed. “However, simply because it is the strategic political move, does not mean it is the correct one. Indeed, what is the use of politics if we cannot use our influence and skill in order to ensure that justice is carried out? And justice is not something that happens swiftly, in my experience. Swift justice often turns out to be injustice, and I will not see one of our Padawans suffer for our haste. Rather, I will take it upon myself to coordinate with whatever sympathetic Senators I can find to wrest control of this situation back to the Jedi.”

 

Windu breathed out sharply through his nose and clenched his jaw before turning to Master Yoda. But Obi-Wan didn’t let himself celebrate yet, though he gave Master Gallia a respectful dip of his head for her trouble. Master Yoda, however, could go either way. At times he was affable and joyful and wise. At others he was stern and unyielding. Which Master Yoda would they get today, he wondered.

 

Obi-Wan felt his eyes drawn to the small head of their Order, who must have felt so many eyes on him, for he closed his own contemplatively. After a few moments, Yoda opened his eyes and looked to Windu and then to Obi-Wan, then nodded, as if to himself.

 

“See, I do, both sides,” Yoda said. “Lost, Padawan Tano, may be. If lost, however, ours she is to find again. Care for the one, we must, if care for the all, we are.”

 

“Master Yoda,” Windu implored, and Obi-Wan felt a surge of triumph. They had done it! Anakin had done it! He had only nudged them to where their instincts told them where they should have been all along. Ready to help, ready to heal, ready with mercy and understanding.

 

“No, my friend. Cost us too much this war has,” Yoda said firmly, his ears flattening in displeasure. “Cost us a chance to save a Padawan, it will not.”

 

As soon as the meeting was over, and Obi-Wan finished thanking those who had supported Anakin and Ahsoka, he commed Anakin with the good news. It almost made him embarrassed to hear Anakin nearly sob with relief for his Padawan, but they had taken care of one small thing.

 

Looking at the lightening sky, Obi-Wan briefly thought about getting some sleep and some food, but then he wondered how Ahsoka fared out there with only Rex for backup. If she could find any food or rest without undue risk, and instead got back to work.

 

He had a lot to coordinate if the Jedi were going to get to Ahsoka before the Republic did, just in case Master Gallia’s famed political prowess was not up to snuff this time.

 

* * *

 

“Ahsoka, we’re going up. Up is the wrong direction,” Rex said, following her as they came through the line between the lower levels and the upper levels. It had been a long night, though now it was coming to a close. Though the tall buildings they could see the first fingers of dawn peaking through, soft and pink.

 

“Up is where we can get buckets of free food, and with the two of us looking like we’re coming off shift work, we’ll blend right in,” she said brightly. Rex frowned, but followed her. She tried not to pay attention to the fatigue in her legs or the hollow in her stomach. Not now, when they were so close.

 

She mimicked the trudge she had seen shift workers in Coco Town do when Anakin had taken her here, for a ‘stick-to-your-ribs’ breakfast he had said. All the details of that morning had faded away until now, as she walked through the area again. With her and Rex looking like they were coming off working on droids, they faded into the crowd. Rex was tense, his presence in the Force watchful and on a hair-trigger, though his shoulders looked relaxed.

 

Then she saw it, the squat little shape of Dex’s Diner, a little haven of protein and fat and sugar in the middle of an industrial area.

 

Smiling, she picked up her pace a little bit, her eyes drinking in the sight of the red synthaleather covered booths, the long counter and Dex behind it, seeing to the workers going to bed and going to work.

 

She opened the door, enjoying the little ring of the bell, and Dex looked up. His eyes widened. And Rex twitched behind her, a spike of _anger, revulsion, fear, betrayal_ , and she realized she probably should have braced Rex for the fact that they were about to get help from a Besalisk. She sent him a little wave of calm, and he allowed it, in spite of his caution against her depleting her already low Force reserves.

 

Looking around like nothing was wrong, she ignored Dex’s reaction and dragged Rex to two stools at the end of the counter. They sat and she started looking at the menu like she had money. Her stomach grumbled just looking at the listed food. So much protein on offer, her body almost screamed for it. She could even hear Rex’s stomach rumble. It made her smile, hearing that, and she shot him a little grin. He shrugged, keeping a weather eye on Dex and everyone in the diner.

 

Then Dex came up to them, towering but affable in his shirt and grease spotted apron. Dex was someone unique, less prone to panic than anyone else, with a good instinct for filtering the truth from the lies. More importantly, he was someone Anakin _and_ Master Kenobi trusted a great deal.

 

“Well, what’ll you have?” he asked in his low grumble.

 

“How about the blue plate special? I’ve always wanted to try that, but when I first came in here, I was told it was too much for a little thing like me,” she said, smiling up at him.  

 

“Still is. Don’t know where you’d put it all, girl,” Dex said, idly wiping down the counter. Ahsoka was pretty sure that didn’t actually clean anything, just move the grease around, but that was part of Dex’s charm.

 

“Well, I had a long night, all sorts of things went wrong, and my boss is blaming me for things I didn’t do, and I have no clue how to get it all sorted out. So I’m stressed _and_ starving. Hey, bet you the price of our breakfasts that I can eat it all in twenty minutes,” she said, and Dex gave her a long level look. Rex was tense beside her, practically radiating the fact that this was a bad, bad, bad idea. Then Dex laughed.

 

“You’ve got a bet, girl,” he said. Then he turned to Rex. “What about you, fella?”

 

Rex, to his credit, didn’t even hesitate.

 

“Since she’s paying, I’ll have the Kashyyyk omelet combo, with a side of waffles,” he said, and Dex grunted then wrote down their orders before looking after other customers. Ahsoka turned to Rex, one brow raised.

 

“Waffles?” she asked, unable to hide her amusement. He smiled back at her.

 

“Never had waffles before. Wanted to try them,” he said, shrugging. Then his expression turned serious. “You sure this is safe?”

 

“Dex is… a friend of the family, I suppose you could say,” she said softly. “We don’t know each other that well, in all honesty, but I hoped he’d hear me out, especially if we blended in with the morning rush. And no one messes with Dex, not in Coco Town. We’re fairly safe here.”

 

“Alright,” he allowed, “and you really did want that blue plate special, huh?”

 

“Oh, stars, you have no idea. I could eat a whole akul right now, I’m so hungry,” she said earnestly. “But I really hope I can eat it in twenty minutes.”

 

“I’ve seen you eat. I’m confident in your abilities,” he said, voice and expression mock-serious.

 

“Gee, thanks, you sure know how to make a girl feel special,” she drawled, rolling her eyes.

 

“Anytime, ma’am,” he said, in a perfect deadpan.

 

* * *

 

“Senator, Knight Skywalker is here at a most unseemly hour!” C-3PO called as he entered her rooms, and sometimes she wished she didn’t have the droid. But he was so earnest, and Ani had built him, so that was all there was to it. Sitting up, she reached for her robe and slung it around herself.

 

“See him to the sitting room, if he’s here this early it must be urgent,” she said, not even bothering to pull her hair out of the sleeping braid. Instead, she simply threw on her most practical clothing and strode out to where Anakin was already waiting, as though his whole body was vibrating with the need to _do_ something, anything. But then, Ahsoka was in trouble, and for all that Anakin had first resented having a Padawan thrust upon him, it was clear he had come to love the girl like a sister, or a daughter even. More, Padme felt a fairly similar protective urge toward the Togrtua girl who had protected her and learned from her in turn.

 

Ahsoka was _their_ girl, and Padme knew she would fight as fiercely as her husband to see justice, true justice, done.

 

“Ani, please tell me you have some good news,” she said in a rush, assembling something like breakfast and putting on a pot of _caf_. Threepio might be an excellent protocol droid, but some things she still preferred to do for herself, and it was also likely that Anakin had not eaten properly. She could make him slow down to eat if she was eating as well, she had found, and she used the tactic shamelessly to keep him fed.

 

She was also fairly certain he knew what she was doing, but complied anyway.

 

“Some. The Council has decided that once Ahsoka is found and apprehended, she must go to the Temple to be seen to. Master Gallia will be coming to see you soon to work Senate,” he said, and Padme felt a wave of relief at that. Adi Gallia was a political legend, and they would need all the help they could get.

 

“I just had to come by and let you know, to see you. I need to keep on the investigation if I’m going to find the real culprit. Obi-Wan and a few others are coordinating the search, trying to bring her in before Republic security forces can,” he said, joining her at the counter of the kitchen.

 

“Do you need any help with the case?” she asked, handing him a mug of _caf_ , which he drank gratefully. He shook his head.

 

“You’ll be busy with the Senate, and Ahsoka needs your attention focused there,” he said.

 

“I could at least review the files,” she offered. “Sometimes fresh eyes will see something that was missed.” Then their breakfast of eggs and toast was ready and she placed a stacked plate in front of him. She started in on her own plate of food, and with a resigned sigh, he ate. Though once he started to eat, he did so with gusto.

 

“I think,” he said, after another mouthful of food. “That you should request that of Master Gallia. It’ll look better. She’ll refer the matter to me, and I’ll allow it. And before you say anything, you’re going to be too busy for a little while to do it anyway. First things first, alright?”

 

“Alright, Ani,” she said with a sigh. “But I will be asking, and I will not rest until Ahsoka’s name is cleared. Same as you.”

 

“Padme,” he said, his heart in his eyes. “I… thank you. Thank you for believing in her. I know it would mean a lot to her. It means a lot to me.” On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed him soundly, and he tasted of _caf_ and breakfast, but that didn’t matter.

 

“You are both part of my family, Ani. I fight for my family,” she said. He gave her a lopsided grin at that, almost like he still couldn’t believe that she loved him. They finished their breakfast quickly, and he left without little more than a kiss and a good-bye.

 

Then Padme called up all the Republic Military codes, the Senate bills about Jedi and Republic oversight of the army, precedents for jurisdictions, and anything else she could think of that might serve to ensure that Ahsoka was not sacrificed upon the altar of militarized fear.

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka had finished the meal in just under twenty minutes, and Rex _did_ wonder she put it all. Dex, the proprietor of this place, had grunted and grumbled about that, but had otherwise let them be. Rex was close behind her, having decided he really liked waffles, but then she nudged his ankle with her foot.

 

“Slow down,” she said. “We need a reason to stick around once the rush goes away. Need to ask Dex a few questions. We can get you more waffles if you want,” she offered, giving him a teasing smile. He shook his head.

 

“Right, slow down,” he said, and tried to savor food that while delicious, was food eaten on the run and in full view of hundreds, if not thousands of people. Granted, he hadn’t seen any of the security forces around here. They were likely concentrating on the lower levels, unaware that Ahsoka had a small haven here.

 

Eventually, the number of people in the diner thinned out, and Dex came back to check on them.

 

“At least _he_ can take the time to appreciate good food,” the Besalisk rumbled, and Rex shrugged, spreading his hands affably.

 

“What can I say, best breakfast I’ve ever had,” he said, and that was true. Far, far better than chow at a mess hall, and even dirt would be better than Republic ration bars. Dex smiled thinly at that, and Rex was fairly certain it was a smile. After he had gotten over the shock of seeing someone who looked like Krell in a grease spotted apron, he had warmed up to Dex, between the food and _not_ calling security forces. Although he knew not all members of a species were the same, it was nice to experience that.

 

“That, I believe,” Dex said quietly, and Rex was pretty sure he knew a trooper when he saw one, in spite of the jumpsuit and cap. “Well, a bet is a bet, but I don’t suppose you’d take pity on a humble and honest business owner and help me out a little?”

 

“Sure, Dex,” Ahsoka said easily. “My… uncle and my brother would be upset if I left you in the lurch like that.” Then she hopped down from the stool, and Rex followed suit and they were led into the back of the diner. There was a skinny Rodian at the sink who looked up as they entered.

 

“Take a break, kid. Got some cover for you,” Dex said. “Go make sure your brothers get to school, eh?” Not needing to be told twice, the Rodian babbled his thanks and left, hanging his apron up neatly by the door. Then Dex looked pointedly at the Ahsoka, and then the sink.

 

Her eyes widened.

 

“Wait, for real? Dex, come on,” she protested, but then sighed and rolled up her sleeves and got to washing. Rex took up position beside her and figured out how to load the dryer and for a few moments the sounds of frying food and the clank of dishes filled the small kitchen.

 

“You know the news is out about you. Everyone’s on the lookout, especially the unsavory types, so what’s your plan, kid?” Dex asked, his normally large voice now low and soft, and likely reaching only their ears. They had seen the bounty on their way to Coco Town, but this confirmed that it was all over the planet, not just in the Undercity.

 

“We need rest, according to my friend here,” she said, and Rex snorted.

 

“You do need rest. You burned through too many reserves. I know the signs,” he said, and Dex looked at them for a moment, considering.

 

“Fine, rest. And then work to clear my name. I know… I know my brother is trying to sort things out, but I can’t just do nothing. I’ve got to try, too,” Ahsoka said. “I’ve been thinking and there might be someone else I can trust to get me information about the whole mess.”

 

“Hm, its risky, making that kind of contact. You might be better keeping your head down,” Dex advised, serving up plates easily with one set of hands while his other prepared and cooked the food.

 

Rex kept quiet at that. If he had his way, they would keep hiding until the General sorted this out. Rex knew Skywalker would never abandon Ahsoka. He had seen the man drive himself and others to the point of exhaustion trying to save and find her on several occasions. But Rex also knew Ahsoka, and there was no telling her to stay put, to not _try_. He admired her for that, but it did make his job difficult sometimes.

 

“Maybe,” she allowed. “But when has anyone in my family ever kept their head down?” She arched a brow and gave the Besalisk a smirk, like she wasn’t on the run and had everything under control.

 

Dex let out an amused grunt at that, shaking his head.

 

“Be the death of yourselves, you lot. Fine,” he declared, putting up the last two plates and turning to face them. “I know a place you can rest, and I can give you a bit more food. Just do me a favor, kid. Don’t get killed. Your… brother and your uncle, they’ll be intolerable if you don’t make it.”

 

“Don’t worry, sir, I’ll do my job,” Rex said, before Ahsoka could get a word in. She frowned up at him with a little indignant huff. Then she turned back to Dex.

 

“I’ll do my best. And thank you, Dex,” she said earnestly. Dex waved away her thanks with one hand, while boxing up and hand them more food with his other three.

 

“Don’t mention it. Now, get going before the shift change is completely over. Address for the place is in the small container,” he said, and then he turned his back on them, taking orders, calling out confirmations and cooking. Rex looked at Ahsoka then, and she nodded. This was apparently their cue to leave.

 

Stepping out the backdoor, Ahsoka opened the small container and looked at the address written on the underside of the lid and sighed. It was back down, into the Undercity, and when they got there, Rex started to wonder if it was safe to enter at all, let alone hide out in. Calling it dilapidated would have been kind.

 

But Ahsoka squared her shoulders and went inside, and he followed her up the stairs and into a small room with little more than a bare mattress on a cheap frame. The door shut behind them, Rex put down the containers of food and stacked them in a neat corner, taking inventory. Dex had been rather generous, though he probably had reasoned on trooper and Jedi appetites. Then Rex stood and looked around, casing the room for defensive capabilities.

 

It wasn’t impressive. Its main defense was its unobtrusiveness, which he supposed would have to do. Rex would have preferred a nice bunker with lots of blasters and ammo and maybe some grenades, though. No defense like an overwhelming offence.

 

“What is this place?” he asked, unable to keep the skepticism from his voice. Ahsoka grinned thinly.

 

“An old safe house of Master Kenobi’s. Once he had to go undercover as a bounty hunter. He used this room to start,” she said. “Said he kept it, just in case he needed to do more work. Anakin was _not_ happy about any of that, and they didn’t talk to each other for a week. I think Master Kenobi actually apologized for that one, but I can’t be sure.” She shook her head, lost in memory, and he knew she needed rest. So did he, but there was no way they were both going to be asleep at the same time.

 

“Get some rest, Ahsoka,” he said softly. “Take the bed. I’ll be here.” He sat on the floor and took out his blasters. They could do with a good clean and to make sure there would be no misfires, just in case.

 

She eyed the bed with trepidation, as though afraid of it, and she held her arms around her middle. He studied her for a moment, taking in her huddled posture, the shadowed look in her eyes, and the thread of nerves that lay under all of her bravado that morning at the diner, and saw that she needed more than backup. She needed a friend.

 

Getting up, he was at her side in two steps in this small room, and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, uncertainty in her eyes.

 

Without thinking about it, he pulled her into a hug, drawing her to him, wrapping his arms around her, and tucking her head under his chin. He said nothing, but held her close and tight, and he felt her draw a shaky breath, her small form seeming to lose some of its tension, like she was finally safe enough let go of her worries.

 

At the next shuddering breath, he realized she was crying. He had seen her cry before. Cry in sadness at the loss of life after a battle, cry with tears of laughter after a joke or a prank, but this was different. She was crying for herself. The stress and anxiety of the past day was catching up to her, he knew that was part of it. But he would have bet anything it was also because her whole life had been turned up side down. She was a hero in this war, though less in the public eye than the General. But she had been well liked, loved even, by Jedi and trooper alike. And now they were hunting her, because they lacked a little faith, a little trust.

 

He had been shot at, nearly blown up, and even betrayed a couple of times. But never like this. Never by people he had admired, personally, and cared for deeply and that cut to the very core of who and what he was.

 

Rex was pretty certain this was a kind of pain he had no comparison for.

 

So he held her, and let her cry.

 

Eventually, she drew a stronger breath and placed her palms flat against his chest, withdrawing slightly. But he didn’t let her go completely. He kept his hands on her upper arms, holding her still for a moment, trying to gauge her mental state as best as he could. She gave him an embarrassed grin and tried to look away.

 

He knew Jedi weren’t supposed to show emotion like that, but Rex had heard a few too many rants from Kix about that to buy it anymore. Instead, he tried to show her that he had nothing but concern for her, no pity, no distaste for showing emotion when she needed to. That, he had learned, was what friends did. They were there, even when it was awkward and uncomfortable and difficult. Most especially at those times.

 

“Seems like you needed that,” he said softly. Her smile got a bit stronger then, though there was still that worry in her eyes.

 

“Probably did. Thank you, Rex, for… so much. For everything,” she said earnestly. He was tempted to go back to the easy joking manner they usually assumed when they were being honest with each other, not saying the things that they actually meant, but he opted for the direct approach instead.

 

“You don’t need to thank me, Ahsoka,” he said, and he recalled the times she had been there for him, for the 501st, for other troopers, when she had given them, men who were made to be used and discarded, her all, given them her blood and sweat and tears, given them her love and care. Because it was who she was, and sometimes he thought her heart was too big for herself, too big for the galaxy, and too big for the Jedi.

 

“You never need to thank me,” he said honestly, holding her eyes with his own. “Not ever.”

 

“Yes, I do,” she said, just as honest. “So I guess we’re at a stalemate.” He huffed at that. Both of them were being pointlessly stubborn now, he supposed, both of them tired but at least no longer hungry.

 

“Fine, we’ll resolve this after you sleep, yeah?” he urged, looking pointedly at the bed. She gave it a resigned glance, and stepped out of the circle of his arms.

 

“Alright, but wake me up and let me keep watch for a while. You need rest, too,” she insisted.

 

“Not disputing that,” he said, but he stood his ground until she finally gave up and curled up on the bed, kicking the covers down. Almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, she seemed to drift off. He settled back down against the wall with this blasters in front of him, and started taking them apart.

 

Without his helmet, it would be hard to tell time in this dim room in the Undercity, but he’d give it a while, watching over her, and then maybe he’d consider taking a quick kip himself. For now, though, he’d do his best to be ready, and be thankful that he was here for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the chapters are getting longer. Can't break them up because there's a lot going on at once here in several different places. Lots of things to juggle. Hope you're all enjoying!


	5. To Work

Ahsoka woke up slowly, curling up on the bed before stretching out again, the jumpsuit she wore bunching around her like the bag it practically was. She didn’t like it, too loose, hampering her precise movements for a fight, but she wasn’t fighting. She was running.

 

Opening her eyes, she saw Rex sitting against the wall, half asleep in the way that troopers did when they were in the field and that weird limbo between fighting and being able to properly rest. His blasters were on his legs, underneath his hands, and while some might call that unsafe, it was Rex. Likely, there was no one safer. Then he breathed in deeply and opened his eyes, catching that she was awake.

 

“You feeling better?” he asked, and she sat up, stretching her arms over her head.

 

“Food and rest, they’re almost magical,” she said easily, trying to put behind her the nearly overwhelming emotions she had let out earlier. She wasn’t embarrassed, not exactly, but dwelling wouldn’t help her right now. She needed to act, to do, not sit around and mope.

 

Then she felt it. A shiver, a thread, the barest shadow on her Force senses. Someone was nearby, and she went still, her hunter’s instincts taking over. Rex stood, catching her eye in an unspoken question. She nodded in the affirmative, and he readied his blasters.

 

Then the window shattered.

 

In a blur, a grey and black female form lit up two red lightsabers. Rex got off a couple of shots, but they were deflected dangerously close to Ahsoka’s head, and Rex growled his frustration. Ahsoka lit up her single blade in response and closed with the woman, coming in low, under her defenses. The woman blocked deftly, and kicked Ahsoka with a surprising amount of strength, whereupon Rex promptly tried to tackle her. But the woman was wiry and strong, likely drawing on the Force as she sidestepped Rex’s bull rush, powering down one saber and using that hand to grab him and flip him on his back. With him on the floor, she lit up her second saber again and crossed her blades over his neck.

 

“Well, well, well, what have we here,” a horribly familiar voice drawled underneath a full facemask.

 

“Ventress!” Ahsoka exclaimed, gritting her teeth in frustration. “What are you doing here?”

 

“There’s a bounty out on you, girl, and I aim to collect it. And really, child, you should learn how to hide yourself better in the Force. It did take some time, but you’re easy enough to sense once I got close enough,” Ventress said, still using her blades to threaten Rex.

 

“You don’t have to do this, Ventress,” she said, putting her saber away. Master Kenobi had said something about her lately. About her being different, and she didn’t feel the same, that was for certain. Still shadowed, still dark, but not wrapped in it, not drowning in it.

 

“No, I don’t, but I do like having money,” she said, in that dry, gravelly voice of hers.

 

“What if I could get you something better than money?” Ahsoka ventured, hoping that Master Kenobi was right about her. She glanced down at Rex and tried to look reassuring. He only glared up at Ventress, a mass of simmering anger at the other woman, and himself.

 

“And what, in all the galaxy, could you, a child, offer me that’s better than money?” Ventress asked, laughing darkly, and twisted her blades into the floor, and Rex stared back up her, a glittering challenge in his eyes, as though if given half the chance he’d tear the woman apart.

 

“How about a pardon?” Ahsoka offered. “I have friends, in the Senate. I could get them to sponsor you for a pardon. You left that life, you aren’t that person anymore, and that has to count for something. I’ll make sure it counts for something.”

 

For a long moment, no one moved, all of them wrapped in their own private thoughts. Ahsoka breathed evenly, eyes avidly watching both Ventress and Rex. She didn’t put it past her captain to try something, even with two lightsabers at his throat. And Ventress. One never did know what way Ventress would jump. Sometimes, Ahsoka wondered if _she_ knew.

 

Then, abrupt and clipped as ever, Ventress powered down her blades and stepped away from Rex, who got up like a shot, his shoulders and jaw rigid with his anger. Ventress removed her mask and looked at Ahsoka with a pitiless, skeptical gaze.

 

“Why would you do that?” Ventress asked, expression dry and haughty.

 

“You were betrayed right? Your Master tried to kill you, I was told. Discarded. Betrayed. Well, they’re hunting me because they decided that me being guilty was easier than the truth,” she said.

 

“Ah, but you have your little walking blaster, here,” Ventress countered archly, waving her hand dismissively at Rex. “And I must admit, he would make things a little less… _lonely_.”

 

“That is… what the hell is wrong with you?” Ahsoka asked incredulously, unable to help herself. Ahsoka had so many conflicting thoughts about that whole implication that she simply shut it off and went with her knee jerk reaction: disbelief that Ventress could be so base, even now.

 

Ventress laughed, a dry, mirthless laugh.

 

“Well, that answers that, though it’s somewhat disheartening to know Jedi are prudes even at your young age. But I suppose he is an underling. Its harder when your Masters betray you, isn’t it?” Ventress asked, tone as arid as a deep desert, but there was a hurt behind her words and in her eyes. Hidden and buried, but there all the same.

 

A hurt that echoed in Ahsoka’s own heart.

 

“Yes, yes its hard,” she agreed.

 

“I will probably regret this, but you have a deal, girl,” Ventress said. “What’s your plan?”

 

“I need to get to a comm unit, but not a public one. They can trace those,” Ahsoka said, and Rex looked at her sharply. “I have a friend who might still be able to help me.” She tried to look like she knew what she was doing, like she had it all under control when nothing was in her control. Maybe nothing ever had been at all.

 

“Alright. I know a place. You won’t like it, but no one will care about you there,” Ventress said, a sharp, cutting grin spreading over her lips. “You can even bring your pet clone, if you like.”

 

“So gracious,” she snarked, matching Ventress tone for tone, which oddly enough made the other woman’s eyes light up, like she lived to trade blows, physically or verbally. “After you, Ventress.”

 

Ventress seemed to almost purr with amusement, and she swept out of the room, not looking to see if they followed. Ahsoka was about to start after her, but Rex lightly touched her shoulder.

 

“This could go poorly,” he said softly, golden eyes staring after the former Sith apprentice, refusing to not keep track of her.

 

“Oh, poorly does not even begin to cover it, but… I need a comm unit, and one they can’t trace is much, much better than one they can. All the public comm units are exposed, vulnerable. This way, we’ll at least have warning if security is close by,” she said, and he nodded.

 

“I happen to agree, but don’t be offended if I keep the blasters close to hand,” he said.

 

“Rex, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” she said, and that got a dry chuckle out of him at least.

 

“Stop sweet talking each other and move!” Ventress yelled at them, and Ahsoka rolled her eyes before trotting after the other woman, Rex at her heels, as they descended lower into the darkness of the Undercity.

 

* * *

 

“Kenobi,” Dex’s voice came over the comm, and Obi-Wan picked it up quickly. He hadn’t even thought to ask Dex for information, but now he was hoping the Besalisk had pulled another miracle out from under his apron.

 

“I’m here, Dex,” he said, not bothering to keep the eagerness from his voice. They had just finished putting together a commando unit to get to Ahsoka and Rex before the Republic could. Master Koon had tasked Wolffe to lead a squad of troopers, and Obi-Wan was meant to be joining them. This, however, might change plans. And make life a good deal simpler.

 

“Your niece, she was in here with her boyfriend, cute kids, but they needed a place to crash. Directed them to the old place, you know the one, where your cousin Ben stayed once. Hope that was alright, just didn’t want you surprised is all,” Dex said, being even more cagey than usual. But then, he supposed that Dex had no way of knowing that the Order had decided to show a little compassion and mercy this time. They had not been about to announce that over the holonet news. Not until Master Gallia worked her magic.

 

Though, Obi-Wan _did_ have a momentary panic at the boyfriend comment, until he recalled that Rex was there, backing up Ahsoka as he had done for years. He really did _not_ need a repeat of Anakin’s problems, but that was a worry for another time.

 

“Ah, thank you for letting me know, Dex,” he said. “It would be good to see her, the family is rather sorry about how she’s been treated lately. We’d like her to come home. If you see her again, tell her that, would you?”

 

“I will, Kenobi,” Dex rumbled, and Obi-Wan thought he heard a note of approval there. Well, he thought, Ahsoka certainly did inspire a certain amount of affection from those who met her. It was good to know that not even Dex was immune.

 

Then they both signed off, neither of them having time for something as simple as a good-bye. He then rushed to the loading bay, where Master Koon and the Wolfpack were already waiting. Koon turned to him, about to debrief him on the specifics, but he held up a hand, forestalling the Kel Dor’s words.

 

“I’m sorry, my friend, but I just received a tip about where she might be. It’s a rather… sensitive place, and she might be less incline to run again if I show up alone,” he said, spreading his hands imploringly. Then Koon nodded sagely.

 

“You might be correct. If she is no longer at this location, join us on our search, but I shall hope that she is still there, my friend,” Koon said.

 

“I will not say good hunting, but, Force grant you find her soon if I do not,” Obi-Wan said, clasping Master Koon on the shoulder, and he swore the other man smiled at him.

 

“On that we agree, Obi-Wan,” Koon said, and then boarded the gunship, which promptly started up and took off. Obi-Wan made his way to a Jedi issue speeder, hopped in and took off at a speed that would have made Anakin proud.

 

* * *

 

Padme found Master Adi Gallia… surprising. She knew about the woman, of course. When she had been a new Senator, she had been told to fear the Jedi who lived and breathed politics, but their paths had never crossed and Padme put all of it down to the mystique of the Jedi and Master Gallia’s natural talents.

 

Now, after meeting her, Padme was not so certain in her earlier assessment.

 

She was someone who _saw_. She saw to the heart of things, her dark azure eyes seeming to peer into one’s very soul. It was most unnerving, and Padme had known Jedi well for several years now.

 

Anakin never looked at anything like this, not even his machines.

 

Padme was not a woman easily intimidated, but she could see how people would find Master Gallia intimidating.

 

“There are certain protocols that we will have to observe,” Padme said. “I only did some cursory research this morning, but it seems that we first have to attempt to find a resolution with the prosecuting officer. In this case, that would be Admiral Tarkin.”

 

“How unfortunate,” Master Gallia said evenly, taking the data pad that Padme offered with one elegant hand. She reviewed the information at an astonishing speed. Then she looked up with a serene smile. “However, it seems once we are refused, we will have the ability to make an appeal. I think it might be prudent to lay the groundwork for the appeal first, and then let Tarkin shoot us down. I do not want to give him time to move on this, and if we have to scramble for votes, he will be able to marshal his own support. Rather, let us be waiting for him. Do you have a list of those who would be sympathetic to our cause? Those who believe the Chancellor wields too much personal power through the army?”

 

“There are many of us, however, they seem happy enough with that power when their fears are stoked specially about rogue Jedi. The Order…” Padme started to say, and then trailed off. Gallia grinned thinly.

 

“I am aware that the Order is not… popular. We were meant to end this war swiftly, yet we cannot. We lack that fabled Jedi ability to end conflict, the public sees. Well, let us shift the conversation, then. It is not about our failings as an Order, but a misunderstanding of jurisdiction and precedent,” Gallia said, eyes sparkling with her own amusement. “If the army has the ability to take over in all cases such as this, from the Order no less, perhaps the greater fear should be about what organization the army will try to strong-arm next, yes?”

 

“Master Gallia,” Padme said, bowing in her seat, “I am in the presence of a true master.”

 

The older Jedi laughed.

 

“My dear, live as long as I have, and you will be just as delightfully ruthless in the cause of justice,” Gallia said, and Padme swore the other woman was having _fun_. And, if Padme could admit it to herself, this was exhilarating.

 

“I can but hope. But since you brought up who might be amenable, especially if we appeal to their self interest, I’ve been drawing up a few lists of Senators you might like to review,” Padme offered, holding out another data pad. Certainly, there was a great deal of work to do, but now Padme felt like it was actually possible to prevent this sick circus from even starting.

 

And, she realized, this is what Jedi were meant to do. To prevent the bad from going to worse, and she wondered once again how they had all ended up fighting a war no one really wanted in the first place.

 

* * *

 

Anakin had taken every report, every scrap of information he had, and he retreated to the library. He had smiled and managed to charm Master Nu into opening one of the private rooms for him to use. He needed some place not his quarters, those weren’t right for this.

 

Padme was right, fresh eyes were necessary, and he hoped a change of scenery would help with that freshness. He had also seen the request from Master Gallia, about releasing the documents to Padme, and he had signed off on those almost immediately. Then, he put it all out of his mind, and started going over everything again.

 

About three hours later, he was yelling at data pads when there was a knock on the door.

 

“Look, Master Nu, I’m sorry about the noise,” he said, bringing himself up short and moving over to unlock the door. “I’ll try to…” he stopped as the door opened revealing a very, very old Jedi that had seen around, mostly training younglings lately, but had never interacted with much.

 

He blinked.

 

“Can I help you?” he asked. “Um, Master.”

 

The old being laughed.

 

“Actually, I believe I can help you, Knight Skywalker,” he said, pushing past him into the private study room, starting to pick up data pads and reviewing them, without so much as asking.

 

“Hey! That’s confidential!” Anakin cried, snatching the pad away. The being turned to him, looking up and seeming to laugh at him from behind his eyes.

 

“Ah, but is not the care of a Padawan the business of the whole Order?” the old being asked, in that wise old man voice that really got on Anakin’s nerves. Like he didn’t know enough to even ask the right questions.

 

“Look,” Anakin said through clenched teeth. “I appreciate your help, Master, but I’m working on it. She’s my Padawan, and I don’t expect...”

 

“Expect anyone else to help you save a brave and worthy young woman?” he asked, voice now sharp, eyes intent. “I will have you know that Padawan Tano is a good friend, Knight Skywalker, and I so happen to be a resident expert in criminal activity. I dare say, boy, that you could use my help most keenly, but I do not do this for you. I offer my aid for her.”

 

Anakin was silent for a beat, taking all of that in, and then crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at this strangest development. This was even more unexpected than the Council changing its collective mind.

 

“Just who the hell are you, old man?” Anakin asked.

 

“I am Master Sinube, boy, and we had best get to work!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, setting up more action later, but people gotta be in the right places first.


	6. Closing In

Even before he entered the room, Obi-Wan knew that Ahsoka was no longer inside of it. He couldn’t sense her presence, but he could tell that she _had_ been here. Along with another, another besides Rex, as clones didn’t leave a Force presence that lingered.

 

Opening the door, he took in the state of the room: broken window, saber scores along the walls, and two deep holes in the floor, like someone had been held down at saberpoint. Stepping in quickly, he let the door shut behind him, and then closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the Force that flowed through this room.

 

He felt it, then, Ahsoka’s lingering presence, her worry and fear a strong undercurrent to her normal exuberant brilliance. Though the exuberance had been tempered of late, with her growing maturity, he had been proud to see. And there, on the edges, was a dark presence, the lingering vestiges of a shadow in the Force, but one that was no longer as dark as it once had been.

 

“Oh, Asajj,” he breathed, an unexpected disappointment hanging leaden in his chest, “What have you done?”

 

* * *

 

“Well, here it is,” Ventress said as they approached the crowded front of a cantina, cheek by jowl with pawn shops, brothels, and other places of dubious business. “Not much, but its what you asked for.”

 

“Right, this is a bounty hunter hang out, isn’t it?” Ahsoka asked, eyeing the place warily. “The exact kind of place I shouldn’t go.”

 

“So little trust,” Ventress drawled, putting on a sarcastic pout, which Ahsoka had not known was possible. Then she rolled her eyes and sighed. “If you walk in with me, you will be fine. Besides, those hideous clothes make you look like a walking bag, not like your picture at all.”

 

Ahsoka looked back at Rex, who gave her the barest nod. She knew he would be on his guard for anything that was coming at them, and it seemed like so far Ventress was living up to her end of the bargain.

 

“Alright, alright,” she said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “Let’s get this over with. Oh, I don’t have to pay to use the comms, do I? We don’t have any creds.”

 

Ventress gave her a long level look, then rolled her eyes and sighed.

 

“Just come along,” the other woman said, tone clipped and frustrated. Ahsoka fought the grin that threatened to ruin her uneasy alliance, but needling Ventress was almost a reflex by now. Even Rex shot her a warning glance for her flippancy. Ahsoka shrugged and followed Ventress into the cantina.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan joined Plo and his wolfpack, as they called themselves, as they swept through another neighborhood in the Undercity. The security forces were using larties to cover more ground, quicker, but they risked missing her. Koon had decided that the ground approach was better, and it would keep them from crossing paths with the planetary security clones and awkward questions.

 

There was no disguising from Plo the lack of Ahsoka and Rex in tow, and at his appearance, Obi-Wan saw that the Kel Dor Master seemed to deflate a little. For a moment. Then he was as straight backed as ever.

 

“She has moved on, I take it,” Plo said, while around them Wolffe and his men made quiet inquiries of the locals. Obi-Wan shook his head.

 

“A darkside Force user broke into their location. I worry that they have been taken in for a bounty, however, I believe were that the case we would have heard about that by now,” he said, turning it over in his mind. Ventress had become a bounty hunter, he knew, but that was as much as his information went. She was never one to let sentiment get in the way of doing what she saw as necessary, and if that was still the case, the current situation left a lot of questions unanswered.

 

“Hm, I agree with you Obi-Wan. Perhaps Ahsoka found a way to negotiate,” Plo said thoughtfully. “I recall her being a most… challenging youngling. She always did manage to get the upper hand on her clan leaders.” That was when Wolffe approached, his one eye grey seeing more than most men saw with two, Obi-Wan thought.

 

“If I may, Generals?” he asked, and then went on, not waiting for permission to speak. But then, Koon ran his battalion much like Obi-Wan, Anakin and others who valued the troopers men, not a disposable army. “Have we tried pinging Rex’s ID chip? I know he’s ‘in pursuit’ of Commander Tano, by all accounts, but I know the man. If there’s an order he doesn’t like, he finds a way around it, and this whole thing, with her, would stick in his craw.”

 

“No, we haven’t,” Obi-Wan said, feeling like ten times the idiot. While the Council knew Rex was helping Ahsoka, they hadn’t explicitly told the troopers that, but they made the mistake of thinking any of these men wouldn’t, somehow, pay attention. “Can you do that, Commander?”

 

“Not me, I don’t have a deft touch with computers. I’ll get one of my men on it,” he said, and after a few minutes one of the other commandos was fiddling with some equipment. Then frowning, then hitting the machine, and then looking up at Wolffe with a slightly embarrassed look on his face.

 

“What is it, son?” Plo asked, and Wolffe turned to his general, frown deeper than normal.

 

“Can’t find the ID chip. Last known location was a warehouse, but after that it goes dead. We think… we think the _di’kut_ destroyed it, sirs,” Wolffe said, actually hesitating to report what could very well get his brother sent to Kamino for reconditioning. But reporting all the same. Obi-Wan cursed his war again, the measures they had taken to fight it, and what it did to good people.

 

“You think him an idiot, Commander?” Plo asked mildly, and Obi-Wan knew _that_ tone. “I think it rather necessary, if he is, as you say, providing back up for his Commander. What would you do, my friend, were it me accused of such things?” Wolffe glared, actually glared at Plo, and then shook himself, returning to his stoic, professional demeanor.

 

“Thank your man for trying, Commander,” Obi-Wan said, “It seems your brother is making us do this the hard way.”

 

“He owes me drinks for this,” Wolffe grumbled, and stalked off. Obi-Wan watched the man go and glanced at Plo out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Rather tetchy, your Commander,” Obi-Wan remarked.

 

“It is because he cares,” Plo said, and then squared his shoulders. “Come, if she was taken by this bounty hunter, or managed to forge an alliance, that is something.”

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka had disappeared into a comm-booth, pulling the curtain behind her, leaving Rex to sit at a table with Ventress. She had gotten herself a drink, which she nursed while watching him closely over the rim of the cup.

 

“Tell me, clone,” she drawled. “Why do you do it?”

 

Rex looked her dead in the eye and said nothing. That seemed to irritate her, going by the twist of her lips, and it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach. But Ventress was a tenacious bitch. Leaning forward on her elbows, the cup now on the table between her hands, she looked at him then with such derision and loathing.

 

“You’re all slaves, you know. Slaves for the Republic,” she spat. “They make you, indoctrinate you, put a blaster in your hands and tell you to go be heroes. Well, no one cares about you, clone. No one weeps for you, they only bemoan the cost of your production and upkeep, did you know that? You aren’t heroes, not to anyone here, not to anyone who matters.”

 

Rex looked at her then, unblinking, and he knew she was trying to rile him, trying to get under his skin, and that had things been a little different, she might have done it. But he had seen something in her as she stared down Ahsoka and lost, though she probably didn’t think of it as losing. Ventress was walking wounded, hissing and spitting like an angry loth-cat at anything that came close because that’s all she knew how to be.

 

He didn’t like the woman, not by a long shot.

 

Hell, he didn’t even empathize much. Especially considering what she had done to Wolffe and his other brothers. But he didn’t take her little rant personally. It was more about herself than anything, he realized. While he had been processing all of that, silently, she had gotten angrier and angrier, and then sniffed derisively, as though dismissing him.

 

“Nothing to say to that, I see. Well, I suppose its good you can see what you are, clone,” she drawled, her mask of superiority back in place.

 

“You’re wrong,” he said quietly, no rancor, no indignation, and her eyes narrowed at his mild tone. “Or, at least you’re not totally correct. I know what I was bred to be, I even know how much I cost, but that doesn’t mean my worth ends there, or that no one sees it.” Ventress’ lips drew into a sneering snarl, her contempt plain as day.

 

“I see I was wrong. You _are_ a fool, a programmed fool they will throw away at the end of this war, with the rest of the mess,” she said in a huff, and he shrugged. That he might be discarded, even if the Republic won, was not outside the realm of possibility. But he knew that would not happen without a fight, not without his General and his Commander, and those like them, raising hell for him and every _vod’e_. Whether they would win that fight was beside the point for him, it was that they _would_ fight that made all the difference.

 

He shrugged, and he saw that his continued indifference to her assessment of him, the Republic, and his place in it got under her skin. As though she could not understand a being that did not seek to fight at every turn, a being that did not rail and rage against fate and circumstance. That did not look at the galaxy and think that something was _owed._

 

Rex did his best not to waste energy like that, even after Umbara, because too many people counted on him. His brothers, the General, his Commander. He took care of those he could, and trusted they would do the same, at need, and anything else just got in the way.

 

Besides, it was more than a little enjoyable to win a fight with Ventress by staying largely silent.

 

* * *

 

Tarkin, of course, kept them waiting for five minutes before his assistant ushered them in. Padme and Master Gallia, _Adi_ the other woman had insisted after a time, walked into the office in step, presenting an equal, unified force, a symbolic alliance of Senatorial and Jedi might. Tarkin did not seem overwhelmed, but Padme knew that while he was somewhat political, he clearly lacked the experience to be afraid of Adi. Instead, he graced them with a thin, conciliatory smile, as though he was sorry about the delay, but at the same time making them aware that his time was considered important, valuable.

 

A simple power play, Padme saw, by a man who had experienced it, most likely. Small theatrics that gave her a little more insight into his character, and she found it wanting.

 

“Now, this is about the matter of… Padawan Tano, yes?” he drawled, implying that he had so many things occupying his attention when Padme well knew he had been like a gleeful shark when Ahsoka had been implicated.

 

“Yes,” Adi said simply, her eyes giving nothing away, her posture and expression indicating nothing but Jedi serenity. “The Jedi Council has meditated upon the matter, and we request that Padawan Tano be returned to the Temple when apprehended. If she is found to be guilty, we believe it to be part of a sickness of the mind, and as such she should be treated with compassion in our Halls of Healing.”

 

“A mental breakdown?” Tarkin asked, a dark light in his eyes at the very idea. Padme felt her skin crawl. “It is possible, I will grant you, as she is rather _young_ for the responsibility that has been entrusted to her. It would be… tragic, yes, for one so… vital to break as she has. However, what message would it send to the people of this Republic if the Order is not subject to the same laws as the rest of us?”

 

He looked at them with a show of remorse from over his steepled his fingers. Padme wanted to slap the look of his face, but instead she inclined her head and kept her expression calm and cool, like the queen she had once been and perhaps would always be.

 

“It would acknowledge that the Republic respects the right of autonomous organizations to attend to their own concerns,” Padme said. “That the Republic is not the invasive, controlling entity that the Separatists claim that we are. That we live up to our ideals, instead of giving into fear-mongering.”

 

“A lovely sentiment, Senator,” Tarkin said dryly, his lips fixing into a superior smile, as though her idealism was adorable. “However, we live in a galaxy with harsh realities, and unfortunate necessity. We must send a clear, strong message to all that if we are attacked, we will respond swiftly and without remorse.”

 

“I had hoped, Admiral, that you would be more open to our request,” Adi said, with deceptive equanimity. “The political ramifications of this decision will echo for some time.”

 

Tarkin smiled like a shark.

 

“That, Master Gallia, is something I am counting on,” he said, and Padme realized that he thought he had won. That his position was unassailable, that none would dare question or be able to counter him. That he had risen so high to the rarified spheres of power that he could not be touched by mere mortals.

 

“I can see that,” Master Gallia said, her calm exterior still in place. “But do not think this conversation is over, Admiral. We shall meet again.”

 

“If I have the time, Master Gallia, yes, we shall,” he said, and with a wave of his hand, they were clearly dismissed. But then, as he stood, Tarkin was unable to resist one last dig, one last gloat after he thought his victory complete.

 

“Tell me,” he said, and Adi turned to look at the man, one slim eyebrow arched. “This Captain Rex, the one who is ‘in pursuit’ of Padawan Tano, is this the man who was the captain of the 501st? The same leader of the troops on the Citadel mission?”

 

“I believe so,” Adi said, and Padme wondered where this was going.

 

“Ah, this Captain,” Tarkin said with an apparent casualness. “I remember him. He leapt to her defense rather quickly, and rather forcefully, as well. Are we certain he is not compromised? Hm, how close is he to her, really? I would hate to know of anything untoward between them. Highly improper, if I do say so myself.” At that, Padme would have testified to the fact that the atmosphere in the room became positively subzero, though nothing changed on Adi’s face.

 

“Admiral,” Adi said softly, a softness that belied the look of hard, coldness behind her eyes. “I suggest you think very carefully before making unfounded accusations. It would not do your political career any favors, as such accusations have a way of haunting those who begin them.”

 

“Indeed, Master Gallia, one learns to follow such a stench back to the source of the rot,” Padme said, and promptly swept out of Tarkin’s office, Master Gallia at her side.

 

* * *

 

“Barriss!” Ahsoka exclaimed in a tense whisper. Although the booth was semi-private, she didn’t care to make it easy on anyone who might be listening in. But it was a relief to see Barriss’ face on the other end of the view screen.

 

“Ahsoka! Where _are_ you?” her friend asked, eyes trying to look around for clues, like Barriss could come down into the Undercity and save her. “Everyone’s looking for you. Master Kenobi and Master Koon have been dispatched after an all night Council session, and no one is saying anything for sure.”

 

“Master Kenobi… Master Plo?” she asked, her voice suddenly small. Along with Anakin, and maybe Master Ti, Ahsoka thought that they might have sided with her, might have believed in her. Apparently not.

 

“But you’re not without friends, Ahsoka. I’ve been looking into things,” Barriss said quickly, trying to cheer her up. Normally it was Ahsoka keeping up Barriss’ spirits, the older Padawan a natural healer and always more sensitive to the suffering of others. She gave her friend a tentative smile.

 

“Thank you, Barriss,” she said. “I don’t suppose you’ve found anything?”

 

“I have! It looks like the nano-droids were stored in a warehouse for a long time forgotten. Maybe if you go there, you can find some more information,” she said.

 

“Great! Where is it?” she asked, and Barriss rattled off an address on level 1315. Ahsoka used an old Jedi memory trick to lock it into her mind, and then, because no one could see, she pressed her fingers to her lips and put them on the camera.

 

“Thank you, Barriss,” Ahsoka said, her heart feeling a little bit lighter.

 

“Please, just take care of yourself. Find the evidence and come home,” Barriss urged.

 

“I’ll be headed there right now,” she said. “Just need to take a round about way, I think. To avoid all the patrols. Thank you, Barriss, for everything.”

 

“Of course, Ahsoka,” Barriss said, and there was a strange kind of sadness in her friend’s eyes for a moment, but Ahsoka didn’t think on it over much. Barriss had been more downcast than usual lately, and certainly this whole thing was making the other girl more thoughtful than normal.

 

Ahsoka smiled brightly, and signed off, knowing that she would have to drag Barriss out of the Temple when all this was cleared up. Go find a place where they could have fun and laugh and be joyful.

 

As she exited the booth, she caught Rex’s eye and sat at the table he was sharing with Ventress. Sitting down, Ahsoka felt a thread of tension there, but decided not to dwell on it. Likely it was Ventress being herself, and Rex deciding to not take the bait owing to unique circumstances. She made mental note to ask about that later.

 

“I’ve got a location for the nano-droids,” she said, keeping her voice down, but unable to keep the hopeful note out of it. “If we can sweep the place for clues or information, we might be able to prove someone _else_ gave Letta the nano-driods, not me.”

 

“Your friend came through for you. How nice,” Ventress drawled, and she almost sounded disappointed in that. “I believe that…” she started to say, and then looked sharply at the entrance to the cantina. Ahsoka started to turn around to look, but Rex caught her eye and she kept her face away from the line of sight of the door.

 

“Out the back, quickly,” Ventress said, and Ahsoka didn’t need telling twice. As she and Rex got up and made their way to the back of the cantina, two security force clones entered and started making a sweep of the place.

 

“Thank you,” Ahsoka said in a low whisper, pausing to turn back just enough for Ventress to hear. The other woman glanced back, a measuring look in her eye. Then it was gone, replaced with exasperation.

 

“Go!” she hissed. Then turned back to the troopers coming through the door and starting to sweep through the caninta.

 

“Hello boys, we don’t normally see clones down here,” Ventress said in that arrogant drawl, pitching her voice to carry throughout the room, and drawing all attention to her. Part of Ahsoka wanted to stay and watch Ventress verbally dance around security, but she had a warehouse to get to and her life to get back.

 

* * *

 

“Agh!” Anakin grunted, throwing the data pad down in frustration. “Its no use! There’s no new information, and we don’t even know where those nano-droids came from!”

 

“We don’t?” Sinube asked mildly, and then ‘hmmm’d’ under his breath as he started going through some old records. “There are several companies that make nano technology, of course, but perhaps we might be able to narrow a few things down.”

 

Anakin sat bolt upright at that, a surge hope in his chest.

 

“Yes! I have the schematics for the droids somewhere,” he said, going through the data pads. When he found what he was looking for, he held it up triumphantly. Then he hooked it up to the holoprojector, and the little thing sprang to life before them. Moving the diagram around, Anakin studied it. It was elegant, efficient, well made, and the programming was flexible enough to accommodate the scheme the real bomber had planned.

 

“These are Danthe make,” Anakin said, recognizing the type of circuitry. “Danthe Artifice. Didn’t they lose a shipment of something a while back? Warehouse workers claims it was misplaced because of incorrectly filed paperwork. I remember paying attention because I had some parts coming on that order for a project I was working on.”

 

“Hm, I believe you are correct, Skywalker,” Sinube said, calling up the archived news story.

 

“What if we could find that missing shipment? Figure out where these droids actually ended up? There could be clues there, some idea of who actually found these things and planned this,” he said, becoming more animated and excited by the second, diving back into the data pads, calling up old files, registries, and the like. Beside him, Master Sinube did the same, but at a slower pace. It was that slower pace that rankled Anakin when the old man beat him to the punch.

 

“Ah-ha! I had thought that might be the case, once you mentioned the misplacement of a shipment. It seems, because of the droid’s capabilities, they were filed as munitions not droids, and thus directed to a munitions warehouse on level 1315, it seems," Sinbue said.

 

Anakin stared at the old man for a moment, and then broke out into a fierce grin. He had to resist the urge to hug the old man, and instead clasped him on the shoulder.

 

“I have to tell Obi-Wan, and I have to go there. _Now_ ,” he said, and stood, gathering up his robe and saber and all but running to find a speeder that would take him there, a desperate urgency running through his veins. He did not see Master Sinube sigh, turn back to the data pads and continue to look for more information, information that might have been useful to know.

 

* * *

 

Rex stood next to Ahsoka outside the warehouse. Supposedly, if her friend was correct, there would be clues in here that might help clear Ahsoka’s name. But Rex had an itch between his shoulder blades that hadn’t gone away. He wasn’t a superstitious man, unlike some of his brothers, but he had been a soldier for long enough to know when something was off, even if he couldn’t say what it was exactly.

 

“I think I’ll take up an overwatch position, just in case. Besides, you know better than me what you’re looking for,” he said thoughtfully, eyeing the area. Ahsoka glanced up at him, one white brow marking arched inquisitively.

 

“This should be safe, Rexter. No one knows about this place, and Barriss is my friend, like you. I trusted you, and I’m trusting her,” she said, and Rex wasn’t sure how to argue against that point.

 

“I just have a bad feeling about this,” he said, checking his blasters, and wishing he had his armor instead of the jumpsuit, but the armor would have gotten them picked up right away. Ahsoka grinned then, playfully nudging his shoulder.

 

“You don’t get to say that. I’m the Jedi, that’s my line,” she teased. He shook his head at her, but felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. That was his Commander through and through, he supposed.

 

“Just be careful, Ahsoka,” he urged, and she must have sensed something from him or seen something on his face that he hadn’t intended to let through, because she sobered up right quick. She gave his upper arm a brief squeeze, a reassuring kind of contact.

 

“Promise,” she said, and then, likely looking more confident than she actually felt, she entered the warehouse. They had no comms, and no time to steal some, so he took up a position on top of the warehouse itself, using the legally required safety ladders to reach the roof.

 

Hunkered against the lip of the roof, he watched. The area was fairly deserted, so when a lone figure, hooded and dark, strode into the narrow street, he perked up but kept his profile low. He watched as the figure, a female figure, walked up to the warehouse, looked around and ducked inside.

 

Cursing, he started to move, to go find Ahsoka and warn her, when he then heard the sound he would know anywhere: a lartie was approaching. Looking up, he saw it in the distance, and hanging out the side were three figures, and only Jedi would hang out the side of a gunship like that, like they could survive the drop at speed.

 

“ _Stang_ ,” he whispered hoarsely. It was going to be the worst kind of party in about a minute, and he had one single priority. Get Ahsoka the hell out of here at any cost, because he was fairly certain his Commander had been betrayed more deeply than she knew.

 

And in spite of everything, in spite of the danger and the threat to his own life and very existence, his heart broke a little for her. No matter how this all fell out, she was getting hurt, and there was nothing he could do to protect her against that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait. Real life is keeping me more busy than usual.


	7. Captured

Ahsoka walked through the warehouse, looking at the various markings on the storage crates, hunting for any indication that the nano-droids were here. It was dim in the warehouse, so she had to rely completely on her eyes because unfortunately inactive nano-droids wouldn’t ping on her montrals. Although her eyes were sharp, and she recalled a few tricks that Fives had taught her to take in information quickly and at a glance.

 

That let her move a little quicker, checking each crate, ducking her head under covering cloths, and finding nothing on the ground floor. She eyed the stairs to the second level, breathed out sharply in frustration, and trotted up them, the bare metal stairs ringing under her booted feet. Just as she stepped onto the second landing, there was another metallic ring, and she stopped.

 

Standing stock still, she looked around her carefully and saw nothing. But that did not mean that someone wasn’t in here with her. Rex would have called out to her, so that meant someone else.

 

Tilting her head back, she vocalized her highest call and felt the echoes, the shape of the warehouse and stacked crates ping off of her montrals. But no humanoid shape.

 

That did not, however, guarantee that she was alone. She could dip into the Force, but that might distract her too much, take up too much time. Weighing the options, she decided to continue looking.

 

Then, just as she turned back to the crates, she felt a presence behind her, and as she turned to face whoever it was, drawing her saber and powering it up, she was pushed back into the crates, slamming her head hard. Vision blurry, she looked up to see a hooded figure stride toward her, in a dark, long dress, face obscured. The figure approached closer, bringing to life a single red saber blade, but there was something off about it, something fractured.

 

Gritting her teeth, Ahsoka launched herself at the figure, though she was unused to relying on the single blade. Her opponent parried easily, giving ground she first thought, then she realized that the other woman was drawing her on. Where, Ahsoka didn’t know, but she decided to try to take control of this fight, and retreated abruptly.

 

 _Come on, then, you want me so bad, come and get me,_ she thought, grinning, fierce and sharp. It was time to stop being the prey and be the huntress she was born to be.

 

Ahsoka lunched herself on top of the crates, forcing her attacker to follow her and giving herself the advantage. Her attacker was good, but not as nimble as a Togruta huntress. Even though she was going backwards, she was controlling the fight now, dictating the footing and direction of their fight. She climbed higher and higher, forcing the slightly larger figure to take more and more care, resulting in greater and greater distraction and wilder swings, fueled by a palpable, desperate frustration.

 

Just who her attacker was niggled at her mind. Some part of her wondered if it was Ventress, switching sides again, but that didn’t fit. Not the saber, the fighting style or her previous behavior.

 

Then, just as she parried another angry downward swing, she felt Rex approaching.

 

“Ahsoka, we’ve got company!” he called out to her from somewhere higher up in the warehouse. He punctuated it with a few blaster shots at her opponent, which were deflected, but gave Ahsoka a nice little breather letting her take up an even better position on a catwalk where her attacker would be exposed to Rex’s blaster fire.

 

“Tell me something I don’t know!” she called back, readiying herself for the next attack. However, her opponent hesitated and looked at Rex. Ahsoka could feel the surprise, sharp and high in the Force.

 

 _Definitely not Ventress, then, she knew about Rex, but then who?_ she wondered as she waited for the being to make their choice, to press the attack or to leave her be. Rex fired off another shot at the figure while they hesitated. They deflected it again, but it wasn’t in Rex to pass up an opportunity to keep an enemy pinned down.

 

“Not just her! There’s a lartie incoming! She’s holding you here for them!” he yelled, and Ahsoka narrowed her eyes at the figure, who promptly turned and ran. The running triggered a deep instinct in her mind, and she gave chase, catching up quickly to the hooded figure. With quick slashes in her reverse-grip, Ahsoka pushed her attacker back and back to prevent another attempt at running by forcing the other being to focus solely on defense.

 

“Damn it, Ahsoka! Leave her! We have to go!” Rex called, jumping down from catwalk to catwalk judging by the cacophonous clanging of the metal walkways.

 

She knew she should let her attacker go, should get the hell out of here as quickly as possible, even though this was her one and only chance to get the evidence that would exonerate her. That and she was angry. Angry and frustrated and this… this _person_ was getting in between her and actual justice.

 

Her hand tightened on her saber hilt until her knuckles ached, and then she breathed, and let it go. She couldn’t do that, couldn’t make a choice out of anger and fear. If she did that, she knew she was no better than what the Council thought her to be. If she had to do this the hard way, prove to them that she was no _Sith_ , then there could be no reason for doubt.

 

With a snarl, she jumped backwards, watching the other figure flee, and landed close to Rex.

 

“What’s the plan?” she asked, trotting to where he knelt beside a crate. Grinning, he held out a handful of grenades.

 

“As distractions go, this isn’t a bad one,” he said, standing and dropping a few grenades into her hands.

 

“Ah, you boys and your explosions,” she said lightly, rolling her eyes.

 

“Hey, I know for a fact you Jedi like explosions, too. Everyone likes explosions,” he said with a grim kind of cheerfulness. Then he depressed the button and lobbed the grenade toward the entrance, though not at it exactly. It went off spectacularly just as a squadron of clones opened the warehouse door. They were greeted by a flaming wall of destroyed goods, but there was at least one observant clone because Ahsoka saw one of them signal to the others and point in their general direction.

 

“Go, Ahsoka. Don’t look back,” Rex said, and she ran, Rex at her heels. There was another explosion behind them as the fire reached more stored munitions, and smoke began to fill the warehouse, but they were steadily climbing to reach roof access. That might expose them to the lartie and the Jedi who had come to get her, but it beat trying to fight a cadre of clones in close quarters, especially when neither she nor Rex wanted to hurt them.

 

Coughing, staggering slightly, they gained the roof in a final leap, Ahsoka once again drawing on the Force to power her jump and pulling Rex along behind her. Only to be greeted by Commander Wolffe, leveling his blaster right at her head.

 

Faster than she could have thought, Rex stepped forward inside of Wolffe’s arms, taking his brother’s wrist and moving it backwards in a smooth motion even as his leg shot out and swept Wolffe’s forward leg, neatly sending the clone commander hard onto his back. Calmly, Rex leveled his dual blasters at Wolffe, his boot on his brother’s chest.

 

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

 

“Rex, you’re a kriffing idiot,” Wolffe growled, glaring at his brother. Ahsoka thought furiously, not able to see a way out. No way out without making Rex do something he should never do, do something that should be anathema to every last clone. To attack a brother in earnest.

 

She could run, run while Rex held Wolffe’s life hostage for her freedom, but she had traded on his loyalty and friendship too much as it was. She couldn’t ask this of him, she couldn’t do this to her brothers. They were only following orders, doing their jobs, and she had never blamed them for it.

 

“Ahsoka, go,” Rex insisted, unable to spare her a glance as he had to keep his concentration on his brother.

 

She didn’t move.

 

“ _Go_!” he roared, fingers on the triggers of his DC-17s, a horrible tension in his eyes.

 

“Not like this, Rex, it’s not worth this,” she said softly, and then jerked her head up sharply as she felt three familiar presences approaching.

 

* * *

 

Anakin raced along the roof as soon as he jumped from the lartie, Obi-Wan and Master Koon right behind him, completely unprepared for the scene the greeted him.

 

Rex stood over Commander Wolffe, who was glaring daggers up at his brother, even as he had two blasters pointed at him. Ahsoka stood behind Rex, a horrified expression on her face, and her bright coloring stood out sharply against the smoke that was coming out of the warehouse that was in the process of burning down.

 

Some dry part of his mind saw Rex’s hand in that. Clones and explosions.

 

But mostly his heart went out to his Padawan, who had been through who knew what dangers, admittedly with backup, only to have this tense showdown. All he wanted to do was pick her up and hug her and make sure she was whole and safe, the little sister he had never had and loved dearly. But he was a Jedi Knight, and had a duty to at least obey the forms of protocol.

 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, a warning tone in his voice. His Master could likely feel the conflict within him, but that tone always did make him want to buck expectations. This time he did his best to clamp down on his rebellious streak, for the good of everyone else around him if nothing else.

 

“Captain Rex,” Anakin said, putting a note of command in his voice. “You need to stand down.”

 

“Sir!” Rex protested, lifting his golden eyes to meet Anakin’s own. There was disbelief, indignation, and a stubborn, dogged determination that Anakin had relied on in times past.

 

“Stand down, Captain,” he repeated. “I need you to trust me, both of you. _Trust me_ ,” he insisted. He couldn’t tell them, here in the open, that Ahsoka wasn’t going to be handed over to the Republic without a fight, that the Council had decided to evaluate her themselves, and that Ahsoka was relatively safe for the moment. He hoped they would take the leap, back this time, instead of away.

 

“It’s alright, Rex. It’s over,” Ahsoka said softly, a sorrowful kind of defeat in her blue eyes. She wanted to trust him, Anakin could sense that, but her focus was on Rex, concern for his state of mind at pulling blasters on a brother. Even after everything, she still worried about others more than herself, and he was so proud he could burst.

 

But Rex, being a stubborn barve that he was, waited a half a heartbeat before removing his boot from Wolffe’s chest and stowing his blasters, saying louder than words that as far as Rex was concerned, this was not over.

 

Then there was a flurry of activity. Wolffe shot to his feet and punched Rex square in the jaw, then grabbed him by the front of that jumpsuit he wore and dragged him away. Although it looked more like a walking fight than anything else, with Rex getting into Wolffe’s face, the both of them hissing and spitting in Mando’a at each other.

 

It was too fast for Anakin to follow, and he was rather glad of that.

 

Instead, Master Koon stepped forward and pushed the brothers apart, speaking to both of them in low, measured tones.

 

The other two clones bracketed Ahsoka and escorted her the few feet between them into his custody. He placed a hand on her shoulder as Obi-Wan sorrowfully held out a pair of binders.

 

“I am sorry, my dear, but for now we must do this,” he said, his cultured voice soft and his eyes sympathetic. Eyes straight ahead, Ahsoka held out her hands and Obi-Wan secure the binders around her slim wrists.

 

They all walked to where the lartie waited. Wolffe first, then Obi-Wan. Anakin carefully helped Ahsoka onto the craft, accounting for her lack of balance at the moment, and Obi-Wan helped get her settled. Rex jumped on board himself after Anakin and stood at the far end of the vehicle, the man’s face now studiously blank. Then Koon boarded with the other two clones.

 

As they rose into the air, coming up from the Undercity and headed back to the Jedi Temple, Anakin hoped, desperately hoped that Ahsoka’s trust in him would not be betrayed, that the Jedi would live up to their stated intention, and that the Republic could be convinced to relent in its mad rush into injustice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the wait. The fight in the warehouse was difficult to parse out, and I'm still not happy with it, but the story needed to go on.


	8. Gambit

“Thank you for agreeing to see us,” Padme said, keeping her tone smooth and respectful, while not lapsing into the obsequious timber that Senator Organa loathed. That she was good, personal friends with Bail made no difference now. He was a man of impeccable integrity, and for that reason he had been left out of the plans she had made with Adi.

 

Instead, Padme stood with Master Adi Gallia, carrying a petition signed by every vote she could beg, borrow, or steal. She had to trade on friendships old a new, with Mon Mothma, Nee Alavar and even Christo among others to get as many signatures as she had. Riyo Chuchi and Lux Bonteri had even used their own influence, less than her own, but in different circles to gather even more signatures and sway more votes.

 

This had all been planned before she had even contacted Tarkin’s office for an appointment. When he had been making her and Master Adi Gallia wait, her allies had been already busy campaigning. While he gloated and made obscene threats, the word had been spread carefully to avoid tipping off any of Tarkin’s allies.

 

And now, mere hours after that meeting, she stood before the Security Committee, the Military Oversight Committee, and the highest Admirals of the Grand Army of the Republic.

 

Tarkin was nowhere in sight. Moreover, even _if_ he knew about this meeting, she had asked for it to be a closed meeting, due to the fact that Ahsoka was technically, on Coruscant at least, still a minor for all that she was a Commander and a Jedi Padawan. Something that Bail had granted easily, considering how he had strong feelings on children fighting this war in the first place, perceived duty or not.

 

“Of course, Senator Amidala,” Bail said seriously. “This matter is urgent, but we must be careful to avoid a misstep here. We cannot afford to anger the Jedi, our Army’s Generals, now that they have made it clear they wish to handle the matter themselves.”

 

 _Ah, Bail, thank you for reminding them of that_ , Padme thought gratefully. Just as the Jedi did not want to unduly anger the Republic and its Citizenry, the Republic should not be so quick to run roughshod over their supply of Generals, warriors, advisors, healers and much more.

 

“This is true, Senator Organa,” Senator Aang said, a thoughtful Roonan who often had the deciding vote on the Military Oversight Committee. “However, we cannot ignore that some of the accused’s alleged crimes too place on GAR property, against troopers. Technically, that should award jurisdiction to the military directly.”

 

Padme could see that the Admiralty were nodding along at that, though Admiral Yularen’s nod was more thoughtful, hesitant. But then, it would be, he had worked closely with Ahsoka for years now. He had come to respect her, Padme knew from Anakin’s stories.

 

“I agree that this poses a difficult matter of jurisdiction,” Padme put in quickly, before the conversation could detour to a location she did not want it to go. “However, the Jedi Order _is_ a sovereign institution, legally speaking, which means that the Jedi do at least have a right to have their wishes heard and reasonably considered before the Republic takes charge of the investigation and prosecution of the accused.”

 

“Should you not directly petition the prosecutor? That is Admiral Tarkin, I believe,” Senator Aang said, looking somewhat peeved at the implication that they had side-stepped protocol. However, if she read the expressions of the other Admirals correctly, none of them cared for Tarkin’s swift rise to power. She fought down a victorious smile, and instead put on a reasonably truthful expression of contrition.

 

“You are correct, Senator Aang, and I helped Master Gallia present her case to Admiral Tarkin. He denied the request, but I hoped to make a convincing case here as a form of appeal,” she admitted. “We have nearly two thousand signatures from Senators and other officials in the military who support the Jedi petition to have Ahsoka Tano tried by a Jedi tribunal.”

 

She handed the documents to her aide who then took them up to the assembled committee. Most of them gave the summary page a glance, but had to wait as Bail and Aang began to page through the list, checking names and status and any statement that had been quickly jotted down in Ahsoka’s favor.

 

As much as she would like to make the rest of the committee wait upon their more thorough members, she knew she had a momentum going now, and she dare not loose it.

 

“I also wish to remind the our esteemed Senators and Admirals, that the Jedi Order has special privileges due to the role of Jedi as peacekeeprs in the history of the Republic,” she said evenly. “As some of you know, I am a student of Republic history, and to double check my facts I checked the statues before this meeting. As it turns out, the Jedi could simply claim jurisdiction here as a matter of course. The original wording was clearly intended to allow Jedi to investigate any occurrence that had anything to do with Jedi on any world in the Republic, but that does not prevent it from being used in this case.”

 

That garnered a few frowns, as she knew it would. Few in the Republic liked to be reminded of the limits to their power, especially when it came to the mystical and aloof Jedi Order. But that set the stage for the second phase of her attack.

 

If listening to Anakin’s military exploits were good for anything (other than causing retroactive anxiety), it was for learning how to think like a general.

 

“Please,” Adi put in mildly, speaking in this venue for the first time. Bail looked at the Jedi Master cautiously, as did Senator Aang, but Adi had been absent from the halls of the Senate for some time because of the war. The Senators newer to their posts and the Admiralty did not know her reputation as yet.

 

“Please do not think that the Jedi would invoke such a thing to avoid Senatorial oversight,” she said, her expression perfectly serene and understanding, her hands tucked neatly into the sleeves of her robes, the very picture of calm Jedi wisdom. “Senator Amidala has been a good friend to the Jedi for many years, and she argues passionately on our behalf. We are most fortunate to have such an advocate in the Senate.”

 

Padme nearly snorted in disbelief. Adi Gallia could damn well get what she wanted by herself if necessary, and anyone who didn’t know that would pay for it.

 

“If I may, the Council does have reasons for making such a request, and I have my reasons in asking for this appeal, if I may?” she asked, and waited on Bail’s nod to proceed. “To be clear, I do not think that anyone, even a Jedi, is above the law. But I must impress upon you the fact that if Ahsoka Tano has committed this crime, she will require help only the Jedi can provide for her, for her own mind’s sake. Moreover, the Order has lost many Jedi, and we can ill afford to lose more. Even a criminal can be put to use, and we believe that should Ahsoka Tano be handed over to a military tribunal, where the accusation of treason is a real possibility, she could be summarily executed if found guilty. To all of us, this seems a waste of resources. If guilty, but in Jedi custody, she could be reformed, and at least prove useful in the AgriCorps, helping bombed world recover from the ravages of war. We cannot be wasteful in war,” she stated, and Padme watched the Admirals for their reactions. They seemed to agree in principle on that at least.

 

“These are excellent points,” one of the Admirals said, leaning forward on his elbows. “I assume, as you are here, that Admiral Tarkin refused your petition directly. Again, I ask why you are here.”

 

Adi’s brow furrowed for a moment, as though the agitation she felt could disrupt her Jedi serenity, but then she speared the assembled committee with her dark blue eyes.

 

“I have certain… reservations as to Admiral Tarkin’s impartiality in this matter,” the Jedi Master said, and that hesitation spoke louder than words that ‘reservations’ was Jedi-speak for ‘fear.’ The assembled committee sat up and took notice then, leaning forward like sharks in the water at the hint of any failure on Tarkin’s part to maintain appearances.

 

“Can you elaborate on that? What occurred, and when, that made you doubt Admiral Tarkin?” Bail asked, and of all of them, his concern was genuine. Adi inclined her head sharply in affirmation.

 

“Yes, I can. After the Admiral denied the Order’s request, he indicated that he did have a past encounter with Padawan Tano. She was part of the Citadel rescue mission, of which he was a direct beneficiary. As was Captain Rex, the clone trooper who gave chance into the Undercity. However, Tarkin intimated that Padawan Tano might have suborned the good Captain by… unsavory methods,” Adi said, her mouth twisting in unfeigned distaste for having to even summarize Tarkin’s vile insinuation. The Jedi Master let that settle over the committee for a moment, and Padme saw some of them shift uncomfortably at the implications.

 

“From that exchange, I have come to believe that Admiral Tarkin has a rather vested interest in the fate of Padawan Tano, and that his interest is not necessarily the good of the Republic,” Master Gallia said, letting her own implication worm its way into their minds.

 

“Did you read his thoughts?” Bail asked, and Padme was shocked. Bail had worked closely with Master Kenobi once, and knew a good deal about Jedi abilities. But then, Padme brought herself up short and saw what he was doing. Adi let a self-deprecating smile grace her lips at the question.

 

“Ah, would that I could, Senator Organa, but no the Jedi cannot read minds. We merely pick up emotional impressions, like Zeltrons, though we do not reflect them up others. My sense of Admiral Tarkin was that his interest was rather more selfish than motivated by the ideals of the Republic. As to what that actually entails, I cannot say, save that it is possibly clouding his judgment” she said, but by not being able to saw, Padme saw disgust fill the eyes of all present. And there, neat as anyone could ask for, they had preempted Tarkin’s implication and turned it around on him. Should he try to spread such a rumor, it would only appear to confirm Adi’s impressions.

 

It was as neat a bit of maneuvering as Padme had ever seen.

 

“That being the case,” Yularen said, “I believe the Order and Senator Amidala have done the right thing to make this appeal. The Justicar of the Grand Army of the Republic cannot put his own interests before that of the army and the Republic.”

 

“I agree, Admiral,” Bail said. “Perhaps we should allow the Jedi oversight in this matter?” Senator Aang shook his head.

 

“I do not think it reasonable to give the Jedi complete control here,” Aang said, though his conciliatory smile took the sting out of his judgment. “Were we not at war, and were the public not so scared, I would think nothing of letting the Jedi handle this matter themselves. However, the Jedi are in the public eye now, and it would be ill advised to let them retreat behind their walls.”

 

Adi gave Padme a quick look and a brief nod, and she knew it was time for the backup plan they had discussed. They knew that getting complete control of the case would be difficult, but it was a standard tactic to ask for the moon and settle for what you actually wanted in the first place. Taking a breath, Padme steadied herself and stepped forward slightly, gathering their attention to her.

 

“Perhaps, we might be able to reach a compromise,” she suggested, and she felt their attention become sharp. “Let the Jedi share the oversight of this case, owing to their particular status within the Republic, and the potential unique Jedi-problems that Ahsoka Tano might be facing. And, appoint a new, truly impartial investigator from the army as well as a Senator from the Republic to make sure any deadlock can be broken.”

 

There was a moment of silence, as they considered her proposal. She could see a few Admirals more than eager at her suggestion to remove Tarkin from the case, and cut him off from his growing political power. Her suggestion also mollified the more power-conscious Admirals, who did not want the army to totally give up its possession of this case.

 

“I believe this is an excellent suggestion,” Admiral Shoan Killan said, an older, bald human with a thin beard along his jawline. “Though I believe Wulff and myself must recuse ourselves. We both have had positive interactions with Padawan Tano. Perhaps Erel, you would be willing? I believe you’ve never met the girl.”

 

Padme’s eyes fixed on the suggested Admiral. Erel Kersos, an oddly quiet Corellian who had devoted himself to the army after the tragic death of his wife. He had only become an Admiral after his corrupt commanding officer had been assassinated. He was a surgeon, a healer, she knew from the file, and he might be just the man for the job.

 

Kersos looked at Killan, one dark eyebrow raised in sardonic thanks for the unasked for honor. He then looked at the other assembled Admirals, and they each gave him an encouraging nod. Then he looked at Padme and Adi, his dark eyes bright and intelligent, with an undercurrent of kindness, she thought.

 

“I will investigate and prosecute to the fullest extent of my abilities, Senator Amidala and Master Gallia. I do not know if you will thank me for this or if you will curse me, but I will do my job, and I can at least work with Jedi,” he said, his voice touched with the barest hint of sarcasm on the last comment. It seemed that Tarkin’s distaste for Jedi was well known and not well thought of, then.

 

Padme tried not to feel hope.

 

“Then I believe I shall be the advising Senator,” Aang said. “I have never met Padawan Tano either, and although you argue passionately for her Senator Amidala, I must admit I doubt even your ability to remain impartial. I know she is dear to you,” he said, voice soft with understanding.

 

It was not the outcome she had dreamed of, but it was far, far better than the situation they had been in this morning.

 

She bowed her head in gratitude.

 

“Thank you, Senators, Admirals,” she said, and then she saw something few ever did. A humble Jedi. Adi Gallia, Master of the Order, towering political figure, bowed deeply to the assembled committee, and from the expressions on the faces of those present they had never seen the like either. Then Adi straightened, shoulders back, head high.

 

“You have the deepest thanks of the Jedi Order, and myself, for your compassion and understanding in pursuit of the truth,” she said, and the power of those words rang like a bell in the small room.

 

Once again Padme was struck by the power and nobility of the Jedi, made all the more compelling when they were humble and honest, when they did not rely on mysticism as a smoke screen and let others see to the heart of who and what they were.

 

For the heart of the Jedi was a wonder to behold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of Ahsoka. We'll be getting back to her soon, but I wanted to give the political stuff its own space.
> 
> Also, Adi Gallia scares me in the best way possible. ... Gallia for President?!


	9. Revelations

Ahsoka held her head high as the lartie circled the Jedi Temple. No one had spoken for the duration of the flight, everyone sunk in their own private thoughts. She could sense that Wolffe and his commandos were steady as ever, though the commander was in an abrasive mood, only mollified by the presense of Master Plo, she guessed. Master Plo was oddly opaque, but not unkind to her senses. Master Kenobi seemed subdued, a shadow of all sorts of pain hanging over him, but not obscuring him. Then there was her own Master, her Skyguy, a vortex of feeling as ever, but somehow more focused than usual, sharper, distilled.

 

Deciding that she could puzzle it out later, she braced herself as the she felt the ship dip and make its way to one of the many docking bays. With the barest jolt, it landed, and she waited to be led, likely to a cell. She looked to Rex, then, to see how he was holding up, but he was keeping his expression blank and his emotions tightly controlled.

 

She had met few non-Force Sensitives who had that level of emotional control, but she supposed Rex had learned to help her and Anakin. He had done so much for them, for her, and it was likely going to get him killed now. Sent back to Kamino for displaying ‘aberrant behavior’ and possibly even sent to reconditioning. Her stomach clenched in horror at the thought.

 

“Skyguy,” she said softly as her Master came up behind her, his hand on her shoulder as he escorted her off the ship and into the bay. “Its about Rex…”

 

“We figured out about his ident chip, Ahsoka. We’ve got it covered,” he said, voice just as soft, and she felt a burst of relief for their captain, and her heart felt light again. She had done all she could, and there was no shame in that it hadn’t been enough.

 

“Good,” she said, nodding sharply, and then squared her shoulders prepared to meet her fate, though she resolved she would not go down without one last fight.

 

* * *

 

Rex watched his general lead his commander away, her hands still shackled before her, and it was only his programming that prevented him from doing anything about it. That, and he knew it wouldn’t do her any good anyway. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turning he saw Wolffe beside him.

 

His brother didn’t say anything. They would still need to have it out, probably, but for now Wolffe extended a gruff kind of sympathy, knowing what it was to fear losing a Jedi. It was programmed into them, bone deep, to protect their generals and commanders, and the few Jedi that had earned that unasked for devotion were precious to their troopers. It only lasted a moment, and then Wolffe grunted and gripped Rex’s shoulder roughly.

 

“Be seeing you, _vod_ , when you’re out of here,” Wolffe said, giving Rex a level look with his one good eye. Rex inclined his head sharply at the unstated challenge.

 

“Not if I see you first,” Rex countered, and shrugged off Wolffe’s hand. They both stared each other down for a moment before Wolffe grunted again and left to follow his general, the man that had talked sense into the two of them like they were unruly boys, almost like a _buir_ might have, Rex thought.

 

Then, just as Rex was about to find someone to ask where he was supposed to go, General Ti appeared. A woman of serene countenance, and beloved of damn near every shiny that came out of Kamino these days. Her dedication to his brothers alone would have earned his respect, but she had also proven herself as a leader before being assigned to Tipoca City. He came to attention as best as he could, dressed only in a workman’s jumpsuit.

 

“At ease, Captain,” she said, her voice oddly accented, unlike Ahsoka’s. He wondered for the first time if they were even from the same planet. Still, he let himself relax slightly, dropping into parade rest.

 

“How can I serve you, sir?” he asked, the programming taking over, saving him from worrying about Ahsoka for a little while.

 

“Ah, rather it is how the Jedi may help you, trooper,” she said cryptically. He frowned, letting his confusion show, and she smiled. “Walk with me. I volunteered to deliver you to the Halls of Healing where we may attend to your arm. I understand it was injured in your pursuit of Padawan Tano.”

 

He thought he was used to Jedi, being around his general and commander almost constantly, but he was seeing how unorthodox they really were when compared to someone like General Ti. Still, his mind followed the words and found the meaning underneath: they knew about his ident chip being destroyed, but weren’t going to turn him over to ArmyMed and let him be reconditioned.

 

“Of course, General, thank you,” he said, and walked forward, following her, tamping down his worries. If they were doing this for him, they had to be treating Ahsoka well. Even if they hadn’t figured out he was backing her up early on, his actions on the roof had certainly given the game away.

 

It only took the General a few steps to realize, however, that he was walking at the standard back and right hand position, she stopped and turned to him, a Jedi smile on her face. She wasn’t amused at him, he knew that, but at exactly what, he couldn’t figure.

 

“General?” he said, making it a question.

 

“Walk with me, if you would Captain,” she said, “I have some questions for you.”

 

“I’ll answer to the best of my ability, General,” he said, falling into step beside her as they made their way deeper into the Jedi Temple. He had never been in here this far, the inner halls reserved for Jedi themselves for the most part. Ti acknowledged his words with a gracious nod.

 

“Of that, I have no doubt,” she said, and then took a breath, watching him out the corner of her eye, expression curious. “I am a member of the Council, as you might know, and I would like to gain a better picture of events from your perspective, Captain.”

 

Rex took a breath, trying to order his thoughts, needing to make sure that he did his best to help his commander, even in this. Though he had never been a particularly eloquent man, that was Jesse’s territory really, or Kix when he had been dodging medical for too long, Rex knew the power of the truth.

 

“My view, with all due respect, General, is that she was framed. I don’t know by whom or why, but I don’t doubt her innocence,” he said truthfully, though he was starting to have dark thoughts about Ahsoka’s friend, Offee. Still, no evidence there, so he kept that one close to his chest for now.

 

“Why do you say that?” she pressed as they rounded a corner and came to a staircase that would take them further into the heart of the Temple.

 

“What you see, what you hear, evidence. All of it can be faked, can be manipulated. Get a good enough slicer, and you can do almost anything. One of my men, well, let’s just say we’re lucky his programming holds. But I _know_ Ahsoka Tano. That can’t be faked,” he said, stopping and turning to face her, trying make her see, in his eyes and in his heart that he had faith in his commander, and that he knew exactly who she was. Because who she was wasn’t a saboteur or a Jedi gone mad, but a bright, brilliant young woman who had become so much more to him than he had ever imagined.

 

“Captain Rex, did you jump out of that pipe with the intention of pursuing her, or did you jump to provide backup while she was running?” Ti asked, her dark eyes intent, like a hunting cat. It was a look he had seen in Ahsoka’s eyes from time to time, right before something got pounced on, metaphorically or literally. More often literally. And Rex stared right back. It might be insubordinate and rude, but part of him was past caring about any of that.

 

“I jumped because I made her a promise to always have her back,” he said, voice quiet but not soft, “and nothing between then and now has given me any reason to go back on my word. Does that answer your question? General?”

 

For a long moment she started back at him, not cowed by him, because no Jedi would ever be cowed by a trooper, but instead seeming to evaluate him. Then she broke into a sharp, fierce grin. Also much like one he had seen before, many times.

 

“It does, Captain, it does indeed,” she said, and then turned sharply on her heel. “Let us get you to medical. I believe I have a meeting to attend.”

 

Grunting in frustration at the obscure and twisty minds of Jedi, Rex kicked himself into gear and followed, hoping he had done well, for Ahsoka’s sake. And although he knew it could still go wrong, he felt another kind of hope rise in his chest that maybe, just maybe the Jedi had come around.

 

* * *

 

Chancellor Palpatine did his best to contain his anger, even though he had an excellent target sitting in front of him. Tarkin had strode into his office in a furor over being out maneuvered by Senator Amidala and the Jedi, taking the prosecution of Anakin’s snippy little Togrtua apprentice out of his hands. For a brief moment, he had thought about simply disposing of Tarkin, making the man aware of the depths of his failure, but then something the man said had caught his attention.

 

“The _Jedi_ ,” Tarkin all but spat, “They do not have any real power. It is an illusion built upon a moral high ground they do not even hold! The Republic has relied upon them too heavily, and it is past time that we rid ourselves of such an archaic institution, but no. Those fools in the Senate and the Admiralty board are willing to hear them out. They are blind to the failings of the Order, and it will be our undoing!”

 

Palpatine sat back and felt a little warm curl of satisfaction at watching his underling rant. He fully agreed, but he did have a game to keep playing. Putting on an expression of sympathy and understanding, with just a tinge of a man with his hands tied.

 

“The Jedi are our generals in this war, my friend,” he said, making Tarkin’s glower all the deeper. “They are heroes, though perhaps, I too, have been blind. I have not seen them how you have seen them.”

 

“Forgive me, Chancellor,” Tarkin said hurriedly. “I meant no disrespect, but these Jedi make themselves appear indispensable. No doubt they have taken many burdens off of your shoulders, but these could be shouldered by others who do not have any conflict of loyalty to the Republic.”

 

The meaning was shockingly plain, and he wondered how Tarkin had managed without his patronage. Outwardly, he gave the appearance of a magnanimous man, waving away Tarkin’s apology.

 

“Think nothing of it, my good man,” he said easily. “Perhaps you can aid me in an endeavor to find an alternative to relying on the Jedi. They are not the Order they once were, to my sorrow, and it might be time for the Republic to stand on its own.”

 

“I would be honored to aid you, Chancellor,” Tarkin said, eyes bright, and continued to prattle about his pet projects and ideas. The man public known as Palpatine tuned him out, turning his mind to the thoughts of his true self, Darth Sidious. He had been delighted to see the Padawan implicated, a moment ripe for the plucking. This situation had made it abundantly clear that he needed to isolate Anakin, to strip him of everyone and everything save himself, and he had been prepared to risk a little bit of Anakin’s ire to rip his Padawan from him when this situation had all unexpected dropped into his lap.

 

That Tarkin had bungled the opportunity would not be a complete waste, however. Sidious could nurture this man’s hate, his anger, and use it as a weapon later at need. Because one day soon, all would be in place, all would be in readiness for his new apprentice and his new order to rise from the ashes of the corrupt and bloated Republic. And best of all, the Jedi would fall.

 

He smiled then, and Tarkin seemed to find the smile encouraging, not knowing the dark thoughts that brought his smile to life.

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka had only ever heard about this place, the Hall of Justice. It was an imposing place, designed to be so. She saw Anakin’s face turn into a thundercloud at the location, but he did nothing as the Temple Guardians escorted her to the podium, though not unkindly. As soon as she stepped onto the platform, it began to raise up, bringing her to stand before the Council as they stood in judgment above her.

 

If this was designed to intimidate her, they had figured wrong. Maybe, had she been tired and alone and without food, she would have felt small. But she knew there was at least one person in the whole galaxy who hadn’t given up on her, who hadn’t betrayed her or turned his back on her.

 

And that made all the difference.

 

Blue eyes bright, chin at a defiant angle, she ignored the binders on her wrists, the very ones Master Kenobi had placed there, and she stared down the Jedi Council. There was a moment of silence as they evaluated her, sensed her through the Force, and she hoped they would find her as she intended to be: strong and unafraid, knowing exactly where she stood in this galaxy even as it had seemed to try to shake her loose.

 

“Much deliberation you have caused, Padawan Tano,” Master Yoda said, his large ears up and turned to her. “Decided the Council has to prevent the Republic from sole jurisdiction. Share the case they will with us. Master Gallia you must thank.”

 

And then she seemed to lose her footing entirely.

 

Turning, she looked up at Master Adi Gallia who looked back down at her with those dark blue eyes, unreadable, save for a spark of righteous justice in them. Ahsoka knew of Master Gallia, of course, but that would have meant the Jedi Master had wrangled the Senate into submission. In half a day.

 

She bowed respectfully, and when she straightened, she looked back to Master Yoda, her brow raised in an unasked question.

 

“See, you do, that we have not abandoned you,” Yoda said. “But tested and investigated you must be. Understand this, do you?”

 

“Yes, I do, Masters,” she said, though still cautious. She had come in here expecting to argue with them, but this was unexpected to say the least.

 

“Submit to a Force examination, then, you must,” Master Yoda told her, and her eyes widened. That had not been done in hundreds of years. It was horribly invasive, turning the mind of the subject inside out, and had the potential go wrong. That fear she had not felt slithered into her belly now.

 

“Know the risks, we do,” Yoda said, sensing her hesitation, and although he could be kind, she saw a hardness in his eyes. They had done much to protect her from the Republic, but they needed to know if she was worthy of the effort.

 

“I will submit, but I ask to choose who will examine me,” she said, a note of challenge in her voice and her eyes, unable to keep from rolling over completely. It was the huntress in her that would fight for an advantage, even one of principle.

 

She thought she heard a small trill of amusement from Master Ti on the edge of her hearing, but might have been imagining it.

 

There was a flurry of significant glances, however, fast and thick, laden with Force sendings as they communicated right over her head. She schooled her face to impassivity, doing her best not to show her annoyance at being talked over.

 

“This right, we agree you have,” Yoda said, and he gave her a nod, something like approval in the gesture. She looked from face to face, thinking of who she would name. She hadn’t thought about it as she said it, only determined to not let them run roughshod over her. But now she had to pick one of the Masters of the Order that would comb through her mind.

 

She could pick Master Plo, with his warmth and care, or Master Ti with her practically and surprising gentleness. Or Master Kenobi, whose expression all but implored her to pick him. She knew she would be safe with any of them, but what would it say if she picked the safe option? More, could she ask that of them? To do that to her?

 

Many of the others were right out. Tiin and Koth, no. Then her face lit up as the idea struck her. It might not win her any favors, but it would be unexpected to say the least.

 

“I humbly request that Master Mace Windu examine me,” she said, looking the man dead in the eye, very little about her request actually humble. It had all the flavor of a knife thrown to the floor.

 

And, oddly, that made the normally impassive and inscrutable Master smile. Barely. A flicker of challenge all his own in his dark eyes.

 

She saw Master Kenobi stifle calling out her name in indignation, like he would have done with Anakin, and that made her feel a little better. Giving Obi-Wan Kenobi gray hairs was a fine tradition she enjoyed upholding. Right up there with teasing Anakin for his half falling apart ships.

 

Master Plo huffed in amusement, and Master Ti definitely trilled a laugh for her montrals alone.

 

“Are you certain, Padawan Tano?” Master Windu asked, his voice dry. “I am not known for mercy to those who use the dark side.”

 

“Matter of fact, Master, I’m kind of counting on that,” she snipped, and couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on her face. Likely she was making a mockery of these proceedings, but something told her that the more she was herself, the less trouble she was actually in.

 

Master Windu only raised an eyebrow at her near-insolence.

 

“As you say. Very well. You are to be taken to the holding cells for the evening. I suggest you meditate and center yourself. You will be examined tomorrow at dawn. Rest well, Padawan Tano,” he said, a note of warning in his voice. “It might be your last.”

 

Even the implicit threat couldn’t curb her smirk as the podium lowered and she saw Anakin standing there, anger rolling off of him in waves.

 

“What were you _thinking_?!” he demanded of her, hands roughly gripping her by the shoulders. She looked back at him, square in the eye and undaunted by his moods.

 

“That if Mace Windu sees I’m not a dark side user, no one will doubt it,” she said, and that seemed to calm him down. Then the Temple Guardians flanked her and began to lead her away. She looked over her shoulder at her Master, trying to give him an encouraging grin, and that seemed to make him feel better, seeing her unbowed in the face of everything.

 

“I’ll bring you some dinner,” he called after her, and she smiled.

 

“Get me something from Dex, hey? I could go for another blue plate special,” she said brightly, and then was taken down, down, down, into the very depths of the Temple, where once upon a time Sith had been held. Where the cells to contain dark side users had been full of malicious, evil beings.

 

Where she would spend a night. Alone. In contemplation.

 

And she had thought Teth had been bad.

 

* * *

 

In her Senatorial apartments, Padme poured over the information Anakin had sent to her about the case, and for once the Jedi in her home was not Anakin. Instead, Adi Gallia worked beside her, reviewing the facts of the case. Although Adi already had a basic familiarity with the sequence of events, she had insisted on ensuring she knew the case inside out and by tomorrow morning no less.

 

The Master of the Order was certainly taking her duties seriously.

 

“Padme,” the older woman said, a thoughtful look on her face, “what about the events leading up to the bombing?”

 

And Padme suddenly felt like an idiot. If they could prove that Ahsoka hadn’t set the bombing in motion, everything else was cast into doubt. As they pieced together Ahsoka’s movements in the months before the Temple bombing, Padme saw it as plain as day: there was no way Ahsoka could have had enough time on Coruscant to set this plan into motion. She was too often away, or her movements easily tracked while in the Temple and accounted for. There was no indication she had any contact with Letta, the poor dead woman, and while Ahoska might be handy with ship repair and basic droid information, none of her interests indicated a working knowledge of droid munitions.

 

Brown eyes wide, Padme looked to Adi, and said fervently: “Ahsoka didn’t bomb the Temple.”

 

“No… no she did not. And soon we will know if she killed that woman, and perhaps we might be able to find out who did, for I believe that whoever did this has been using Padawan Tano as a convenient scape goat. Someone visible, while they stay in the shadows,” Adi said, and clenched her teeth, hissing. “I do so despise those who hide like that.”

 

“We need to get this information together for your meeting tomorrow morning. Perhaps we can instill enough doubt in Senator Aang and Admiral Kersos to move for a stay of prosecution, in order to find the real culprit,” Padme suggested, hope rising in her heart.

 

They were going to do it. They were going to save Ahsoka. She knew that the galaxy didn’t come screaming to a halt to save one brave young woman, but sometimes Padme thought that it should.

 

* * *

 

The beautifully prepared and nutritionally balanced just for Togruta systems dinner sat untouched on the small table in her cell. Instead, she sat on the small, narrow cot, Anakin next to her, both of them digging into Dex’s perfectly greasy dinner.

 

“You know, we need to get Dex to make a whole batch of waffles for the 501st,” she said around a mouthful of food. “If Rex’s reaction is anything to go by, they’ll love them.”

 

“I still can’t believe you went to _Dex_ for food. That was a big risk,” he said, clearly retroactively worried, but there was laughter in his blue eyes. Then he looked away, a spike of shame rising in him.

 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said, regret and brokenness in his voice. “And I’m sorry they’re subjecting you to that examination! It’s ridiculous!” he said hotly, looking back at her, the anger in his eyes for the Council, and for himself at not stopping it. But he had already done so much for her, and she had to make him see that.

 

“Master… Anakin, I understand why they think they have to do it. And I know I have nothing to hide, so it’ll be fine. And its not like Master Windu is a gossip. He’ll keep anything embarrassing to himself. I might not like him much, but I respect his professionalism,” she said, and then she did something they both tried to curb: she held his hand.

 

“And I know how much you’ve done for me already. You took on the Council, you inspired Master Kenobi and others to back you, and you got Padme to help in the Senate. Not to mention figuring out where the nano-droids were kept,” she listed, and he seemed to squirm with the praise, uncomfortable with a job that was, in his eyes, half done. He would eat up praise for something he thought that had gone well, but if it hadn’t gone perfectly, well. He preferred to forget it ever happened.

 

“I just hope we can put this behind us soon,” he said, shaking his head. He was about to say something else when another entered the holding cell area. Then Master Ti appeared in front of her cell, as poised as ever. Anakin shot the Master of the Order a dubious glance. Ti had never been one of his favorite people, she knew, but Ahsoka had always gotten on well with her, especially after her hunt on Shili.

 

“Knight Skywalker,” she said in her melodious voice. “I would have a word with your Padawan, if I may.”

 

“What about?” Anakin asked, tone abrupt and eyes narrowed in suspicion. Master Ti only raised one brow and let her lips quirk upwards, as though Anakin being on edge was silly and out of place.

 

“I was her hunt-mother on Shili during her akul-hunt, and it is in that capacity I would speak to her,” Master Ti said, and that made Anakin blink in surprise. It made Ahoska blink in surprise.

 

“Uh, alright, I suppose, if its cultural stuff,” he said, standing and suddenly unsure. He looked to Ahsoka, and she nodded. He then gathered up the remnants of dinner and waited as the Temple Guardian opened the door for him. But just before he went through, he turned to her and smiled, wide and bright and true.

 

“See you tomorrow, Snips,” he said, and she felt her heart soar at that, at her old nickname, and the hope that things would be okay again. They would never return to normal, this had shaken her faith in a lot of things, but she knew she could find solid ground again, with her friends beside her.

 

“See you tomorrow, Skyguy,” she returned, and she felt his own elation bloom at this whole thing almost being over, at getting to have her back. With a nod, he left.

 

Master Ti had watched the exchange with equanimity, and entered Ahsoka’s cell in a graceful sweep of her robes. She briefly glanced around, saw the untouched meal and smiled.

 

“I suppose nothing compares to Dex’s, does it?” she asked lightly, and Ahsoka laughed.

 

“No way, and Dex knows it,” she agreed. Scooting back on the bed, she wordlessly invited Master Ti to sit with her. The older woman sat on the bed, drawing her legs up and considering Ahsoka for a moment.

 

“ _You have been through much in the past two days, my little huntress_ ,” Ti said, in the trilling words of Togruti. “ _But you did not go through it alone._ ”

 

“ _I am fortunate in my friends_ ,” she said, responding in kind. She wasn’t as fluent in her native language as she would like to be, but she was good enough.

 

“ _I do not wish to distract you. You must calm your mind tonight, but I do wish to speak with you about your warrior-Captain_ ,” Ti said, using an old form of address, referring to Rex as though he were a warrior of the clan, not a soldier in an army. Ahsoka frowned, unsure where this was going. Master Ti had said she was speaking in the capacity as hunt-mother, the woman who had guided Ahsoka through her own akul-hunt and took up the duties of a mother for those who did not have them to teach them the old ways.

 

Then she remembered _other_ things Togruta mothers talked to their daughters about, and Ahsoka’s eyes widened then narrowed in understanding.

 

“What about Rex?” she asked, lapsing back into Basic, and Shaak Ti sighed.

 

“Ahsoka, I know you have done nothing wrong, you have not broken the Code, but I simply want you to be careful, _rui’iell_. You hold his heart in your hands. In what form that takes, I do not know, but the potential for much hurt and suffering is there, for both of you,” she said, a sympathetic sadness in her eyes.

 

Ahsoka was silent for a long moment, looking away, thinking about everything she had been through, and had been through with Rex. She knew she cared about him, loved him even, in the way that she loved many other people, and she knew that he cared about her. He wouldn’t have followed her if he hadn’t.

 

Even though Ahsoka was skeptical about Shaak Ti’s impressions, she couldn’t deny the possibility that the other woman might be right.

 

“I will, _rui’emel_ ,” she said. “The last thing I want to do is hurt Rex. He’s been too good a friend to me.”

 

“I am proud of you, _rui’iell_ ’ _en_ ,” Shaak Ti said, “you have shown a greatness of spirit throughout this ordeal, and I know you shall endure this one last test with courage.”

 

“Thank you, Master,” she said, bowing even as she sat, and Shaak Ti bowed in turn.

 

* * *

 

Rex was released just as evening fell, his new ‘cloned’ ident chip sitting in his arm like it had never been cut out and smashed to bits. He had felt a brief moment of dark humor at having a ‘cloned’ chip in a clone body, but he shook it off and made his way back to the 501st barracks. Skywalker had offered to give him a ride in a speeder, the man unable to sleep, but Rex politely declined.

 

The walk would do him good.

 

He hoped Skywalker would remember to keep him up to date. It wasn’t like troopers got bulletins about anything other than troop movements and new procedures. He still felt like he hadn’t done enough, like he should have been faster, smarter, better. Now all he could do was wait. Wait and pray to any god or goddess that would listen that she would be alright.

 

In a lot of ways, this was worse than a fight. In a fight, he knew she could look after herself for the most part. But against the grinding gears and wheels of power, one being didn’t stand much of a chance.

 

Still, Skywalker had seemed upbeat and told Rex that Ahsoka was going to be fine. So he had to go on believing that, or he’d probably go mad.

 

Eventually, he got back to the barracks, and he saw that most of his brothers were asleep. All save one.

 

“Wolffe,” he said, letting the door slide shut behind him as he entered the main common area. Tables were set up here and there, remnants of card games and drinks littered about. A dartboard was hung on one far wall, the scoreboard showing the last game was a close one.

 

“Rex,” his brother grunted, and kicked a chair out for him to sit down. Rex took it, letting his legs splay out, taking up more space than he would normally otherwise. It was stupid and macho and pointless, but he did it anyway.

 

“Not mad about being held at blaster point,” Wolffe said, as blunt and brusque as ever. “That sort of thing happens in a fight.”

 

“Mighty big of you, _vod_ ,” Rex said, unable to keep the dry sarcasm out of his voice, and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“Still pissed as hell that you could get reconditioned over this, though!” Wolffe said. “I don’t have so many brothers left that I like, Rex, and you’re one of them.”

 

“I’m touched, Wolffe. I didn’t know you had it in you,” Rex snarked, and instantly regretted it. He had had a long two days, and he couldn’t take it out on any of the Jedi. That would have actually been suicide. But being angry at Wolffe was a good way to vent, even though he knew he shouldn’t.

 

“Rex… _Bic ni skana'din_!” Wolffe exclaimed, slamming his fist to the metal table. “I’m pissed because you lost your head over this, you put yourself in a position that could get you killed, _vod_! And this isn’t like a battle. You… you _put_ yourself there. And I don’t get why!”

 

“Wolffe, _vod_ , I’m not going to get reconditioned,” he said evenly, letting go of his anger, breathing it out like he had learned from Ahoska how to do after Umbara. “The Jedi, they’re going to keep this underwraps. But even if I was going to die for this, Wolffe, I’d do it again. For her, I would.”

 

“For her? Oh Rex, you complete _utreekov_ , you pulled a Bly!” Wolffe exclaimed, looking a little wild around the eyes, referring to their brother who served under General Secura, and who was more than a little enamored of his Jedi. It was something known between commanders, and none of them were sure if Bly had even done anything about it, but they all pitied the man a little bit.

 

“What?! Wolffe, no! It’s not like that, stars!” Rex exclaimed. “She’s still pretty damn young, if you haven’t noticed.”

 

“She’s not so young anymore, Rex,” Wolffe said, his one grey eye fixing Rex to the spot. And Rex stayed still, trying not to consider all the things that Wolffe’s misunderstanding stirred up.

 

“Wolffe, I’m not in love with my commander. I care about her, yes, she’s a friend. A good friend. And I made her a promise to look after her, and she’s more than earned it,” he said earnestly. He watched as Wolffe took in his words, but his expression remained skeptical at the edges.

 

“If you say so, brother, but if I’m right, you owe me five credits,” Wolffe said.

  
“Fine, you’re on,” Rex said, and they shook on it in the Mando style, clasping forearms. And even though Wolffe had asked some uncomfortable questions, Rex was glad that they had sorted it out. Wolffe was right. There weren’t so many of them left these days, the first ones out of Kamino officer training, and every loss seemed just that little bit worse.

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka had lost track of time meditating. She normally wasn’t the best at it, but when she had literally nothing else to do, it seemed preferable to staring at the blank walls of her cell. Sunk deep in the Force, she floated, finding a peace that had eluded for her the past two days, and she started to find her center again.

 

It was a good feeling, that.

 

Then she felt someone approaching, someone shadowed, but oddly familiar. She sensed them as they came closer, then there was a brief burst of violence, of pain and then the tear of death in the Force, close by.

 

The Temple Guardians.

 

Her eyes flew open to see a cloaked figure enter, the same figure that had attacked her in the warehouse. Then the figure threw back its hood.

 

“Barriss,” Ahsoka breathed, her eyes going wide, and everything falling into place in her mind. A sick horror came over her, and she saw how terribly, how utterly she had been betrayed. Not by the Jedi Order, not by the Republic, but by her _friend_. Someone she loved.

 

“Ahsoka,” Barriss said, voice still even and soft, in spite of what she had done. “I am sorry, you know. It was never meant to be you, but you kept looking, kept digging, and I couldn’t let you find out. You got in the way, Ahsoka! You should have just kept out of it!”

  
“Barriss,” Ahsoka said, holding out her hands imploringly, trying to soothe, to calm her down. “Barriss, you’re not well. You’re hurting, I can sense that. Now that you’re not hiding, you’re like an open wound in the Force, Barriss. Please, we can get you help.”

 

“No… no, it is the _Order_ , that isn’t well, Ahsoka. Can’t you see that?” Barriss asked, a wild, mad light in her eyes. “Its this war. It’s changing us, making us cold and hard, deadening us to pain and suffering. But I can’t stop feeling it, not when I heal them, not when I hear them cry out with their very souls for mothers they never had.”

 

Ahsoka’s mind raced, trying to think of a way, any way out of this. But inside this cell, she wasn’t able to wield the Force. She could sense it, submerge herself it, but she couldn’t move so much as a button. Then Barriss raised her hand, her slim, green hand, a hand that was meant to heal, into a grim claw, and Ahsoka felt the pressure on her throat, choking her.

 

“I love you too much, Ahoska, to see you become like them. Better dead than soulless,” Barriss said, tears streaming down her face as she ranted. “Can’t you see I’m _saving_ you?”

 

But Ahsoka couldn’t answer, because there was no breath in her lungs, no air in her throat, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Togruta” (I use Tolkien’s elvish and muck with it a bit)  
> Rui’emel = hunt mother  
> Rui’iell(’en) = (my) hunt daughter
> 
> Mando’a  
> Bic ni skana'din = That really ticks me off  
> Utreekov = idiot  
> Vod(‘e) = brother(s)
> 
> So… cliffhangers are a thing.


	10. From Ashes

Anakin felt the Force _screaming_ at him, and he sat bolt upright from where he had fallen asleep at his workbench, a hyperspanner still in his hand. There was a pain in his throat, like an echo, and he focused on the training bond he had with Ahsoka and he felt it, felt her, the life draining out of her, being _crushed_ out of her by a slim, green hand overseen by mad blue eyes.

 

With a cry of denial and rage, Anakin ran, calling his saber to him by sheer reflex, and launched himself out of his rooms at the Temple. For once, he was glad of Padme’s work schedule keeping him here. Here, he was on hand and close and he could _save her_. Save her as he hadn’t saved his mother.

 

And stars have mercy on the person who had attacked _his Padawan_ , because he would not.

 

His emotional maelstrom swept through the Force, and, for once, he didn’t try to hide it. Instead, he directed it straight at Obi-Wan, jolting the man awake.

 

 _Anakin, what is… Ahsoka!?_ came his mental voice, but Anakin didn’t have time to play question and answer with his Master. Instead, he let Obi-Wan feel what he could feel through his training bond, ripping away all his mental filters, all the barriers he placed between himself and others to shield them from who and what he was.

 

Caught up in his own sense of things, he still felt Obi-Wan’s shock and horror and dismay, but about what, Anakin didn’t know. There was much to inspire such a reaction, he knew, but that didn’t matter now. The only thing that mattered was getting to Ahsoka.

 

As he closed in on the holding cell area, he heard the warning bells ringing in the Temple, and knew that Obi-Wan must have sounded the alarm. But it might be too little, too late. And he would lose her, she would die. Again, and this time there was no mystical lady of light to save her. Only him, and he feared he would be inadequate for the task.

 

His sense of her was fading fast, though the pressure on her throat was gone, he knew. He didn’t even pause at the door where two Temple Guardians had been slain. Although whoever did this had been skilled, they would be no match for his sheer power.

 

The door to the holding cells was already open and he vaulted through, his saber lit and ready, only to find Master Sinube holding Barriss Offee at bay with his brilliant, white lightsaber, keeping his body between the Mirialan and Ahsoka’s prone form.

 

“Skywalker! Care for your Padawan! I shall hold his miscreant at bay!” Sinube called, his normally querulous voice now strident and sure, like that of a being several decades younger. He was drawing on the Force furiously and glowing like a newborn sun to Anakin’s Force senses.

 

For a fraction of a second, Anakin hesitated. Part of him, the angry part of him, the part that only saw red and wanted blood, wanted to tear apart Offee for what she had done to Ahsoka. But if Ahsoka was going to have half a chance, he had to control that part of himself. Gritting his teeth, he forced that anger down, down into a tight little ball where he kept everything that was not good and light, that was not Jedi, and he knelt, scooping Ahsoka up in his arms. Holding her to his chest, he ran once again, this time to the Halls of Healing.

 

But there was so little left of her bright presence. Her throat was all but crushed; he could see the dark bruises, brown and vile against the burnt orange of her skin. Heart pounding madly against his chest, he cursed himself for not being more of a healer. Had he been better, had he not neglected that part of his studies, he could have saved her. As it was, he could feel her slipping away from him.

 

 _Not now!_ he howled into the Force, _Not now, not after everything, I can’t lose her!_

 

And he did the only thing he could think of. He poured himself, his energy, his own life, into her still body, and he didn’t hold back. Not a damned thing.

 

* * *

 

Padme was exhausted. It was nearing midnight, and she had Adi had only just finished ordering a copious amount of notes, data and other information that would be used to defend Ahsoka from the prosecution’s case against her. Then a comm chirped. Frowning, both women reached for their respective comms, and Adi came up the winner, as it were.

 

“Yes?” she asked, unable to disguise the tiredness in her voice.

 

“Adi, Barriss Offee attacked Ahsoka Tano tonight,” came the voice of Mace Windu, his dry, even tones somewhat less so, though only barely. “And to complicate matters, Skywalker attempted a Force healing and now both he and his Padawan are in the Halls of Healing. Their status is uncertain at the moment.”

 

Padme felt her heart constrict dangerously, and she tried to keep her breathing steady. It would be a normal reaction to express concern over someone hurt, but she had to be careful to not be too interested, too invested, though every fiber of her being screamed to know, to demand information about Anakin’s status along with Ahsoka’s.

 

She only hoped that Adi Gallia was less perceptive than usual for the late hour and the long day they both had been having.

 

“Thank you, Mace, for letting me know,” Adi said softly, eyes closing in a brief moment of tired sorrow. Then the Jedi Master flicked her unreadable, azure gaze to Padme, and Padme tried to keep a tight reign on her emotions. “If there is an update on either of their conditions, please do inform me.”

 

There was only the briefest pause before Master Windu answered: “Of course, Adi. Get some rest.”

 

“And you,” she said, and the comm-link ended.

 

“Thank you,” Padme said, her eyes sliding away from that knowing look, afraid that she had already given the game away.

 

“They will be well, Padme,” Adi said reassuringly, “but now it seems we have been preparing the wrong case. Padawan Offee, if she did attack Padawan Tano, she likely is not stable and will need the care of Jedi to see her well again.”

  
“No rest for the weary?” Padme asked, wondering if she had managed to keep hiding the depth of feeling she had for her husband and for the young woman they both loved like a little sister. If she had managed to hide her heart hammering in her chest, and the fear that gripped her stomach.

 

“There never has been,” Adi said, a dry smile gracing her elegant features, and they got to work. Although Padme had a nagging feeling that Master Adi Gallia had seen exactly what Padme had not wanted her to see. Though what the Jedi intended to do with that information, Padme had no idea. And at the moment, she was too tired and heartsick to care.

 

* * *

 

The comm buzzed, startling him out of a dead sleep, but his conditioning held, and he answered the comm without even a trace of fatigue in his voice.

 

“CT-7567 here,” he said automatically.

 

“Captain,” came General Ti’s melodious voice, though there was an undercurrent of strain to it, and then he found out why. “Padawan Tano was attacked in her cell and Knight Skywalker downed himself healing her.”

 

And that was all it took, hearing the impossible, to kick him into action. He got into armor in record time, a brand new set he had yet to customize, loaded his blasters, and shot out of the barracks like a rancor was at his heels. He even used his Captain’s privilege to take an airspeeder out of the motorpool and raced to the Jedi Temple, breaking more than a few speed restrictions along the way.

 

All of them, if he was honest with himself, a habit picked up from a certain General.

 

Soon, but not as soon as he would have liked, he landed the speeder at the public entrance to the Temple, and wondered how he was going to get in. The Temple closed down at night, visitors were not allowed. He had a brief vision of himself storming the walls to reach his commanding officers and yell at any Jedi stupid enough to get in his way.

 

Then he saw the poised form of General Ti emerge from the large doors.

 

“I thought you might be here, when you did not respond to my statement,” she said, voice giving away nothing. Then she raised an eyebrow in dry appreciation of the moment. “At least not verbally. Men of action, you troopers.”

 

“May I see them, General?” he asked, and tried, tried desperately to keep himself contained like he always did, but since Umbara it was getting harder and harder. That had been like a dam breaking, though he had not outwardly changed much, his thoughts had, as had his heart, but he knew the dangers of letting such changes show.

 

“Of course, that is why I am here, Captain,” Ti said, and inclined her head as she turned, leading him back into the Temple, to the now familiar path to the Halls of Healing. He kept his breathing even, and held to his training until he saw them through the surgery window. Their prone forms lying on biobeds as Jedi healers and General Kenobi worked over them.

 

He had talked to Kix and a few brothers, because it came up from time to time, and they said when they got angry, really angry, it was like their minds were on fire, like something in them was boiling over, like they were set on a hair-trigger to destroy whatever was making them angry. But Rex had never gotten angry that way.

 

Instead, everything seemed to crystalize and freeze, like ice water was in his veins instead of blood. It wasn’t a matter of _wanting_ to destroy whatever had made him angry, but rather a matter of time and method of destruction.

 

“Who did this?” he asked, his voice surprisingly even to his own ears.

 

Instead of answering him, General Ti put a hand on his shoulder as if she could sense the bone-deep cold of his anger. Then she tried to calm him, tried to send waves of peace at him, and he snarled, shrugging off her hand, his golden eyes flashing.

 

Couldn’t she see that he didn’t _want_ to be calm? See that he needed to be angry right now, because if he wasn’t angry, then other things, things he wasn’t prepared to deal with, might creep in and take over. Then another hand was on his shoulder, this time unaccompanied by a wave of Jedi calm, and the hand turned out to belong to General Koon.

 

“You must control yourself, son,” Koon said in his deep, measured voice. “The healers cannot do the work they need to if you are like this. You must either calm yourself or go.”

 

Closing his eyes, he tried to let it go, as Ahsoka had taught him and several of his brothers. To breathe it out, to see it for what it was and move through it, not to cling to it.

 

“Thank you, Plo,” Ti said softly. “And I am sorry Captain. I did not foresee you having such a poor reaction to my assistance. Most of your brothers respond differently than you do.”

 

Working his shoulders, he shrugged away her apology. Now he knew the galaxy had gone mad. A Jedi had just apologized to him.

 

“Well done, Captain,” Koon said and released him. “You may stay to watch over them, if you wish, and there is much work I must attend to. Perhaps you would be so good as to comm me if they awaken? I predict that Master Kenobi will be in no state to report in when this is done.”

 

“Of course, General,” he said, back on familiar territory of taking orders.

 

“Good man,” Koon said and left, and Rex felt his gaze drawn back to the bodies of his commanding officers, lying too damn still when he was so used to seeing them in motion, graceful and deadly and perfect. He could just make out the bruising on Ahsoka’s neck through the glass, and Skywalker’s sunken cheeks, like he had dropped kilos in moments.

 

He had a sneaking feeling he knew who was to blame for all of this, but they would never let him near her, especially not after his little display, but there was another question that nagged at him, now that he was mostly in control of himself again.

 

“General Ti, why did you comm me?” he asked, looking at her and trying to see underneath that serene mask.

 

“Because, Captain, I thought you deserved to know,” she said, inclined her head to him, and left him there. Just him to watch over them as the healers did all they could. He didn’t know much about medicine, less about Jedi healing, but he knew that the patient had to want to live, had to fight if they were to have half a chance.

 

“Please, please fight,” he asked of them, determined to stay, to keep this vigil until it was over. One way or another.

 

* * *

 

The world felt funny. All sort and weird and wobbly. Opening her eyes, she grimaced as the lights overhead were too bright. She tried to shield her eyes, but her arm felt leaden and limp.

 

“Whoa, take it easy, Commander,” a voice, one of the _vod’e_ , said, and a face came into view. She smiled dreamily.

 

“Hey Rexter,” Ahsoka said, but her voice was all scratchy and weird, and she frowned.

 

“Don’t talk too much. They let me keep an eye on you, because all the Jedi are busy dealing with the fallout of this,” he said. “I know you have some questions, but General Koon should be here soon to give you some answers.”

 

She nodded, trying to keep up with everything. Her head felt funny, and everything sounded weird in her montrals at the moment. She knew they used pain meds in the Halls of Healing, but she felt like she’d been dosed up her eyeballs.

 

Then time seemed to stretch, and then Master Plo was standing over her. Rex was still here, leaning against a wall, in plain white armor, and she frowned at that. His armor should be blue, like the deepest parts of the sky, the errant thought came. Then Master Plo called her name, and with an effort of will she refocused on her old friend.

 

“Sorry Master Plo, its really hard to think,” she said, and her voice sounded better. She must have had some water or something, but she couldn’t remember. She tried to remember, but then she remembered something else.

 

Skyguy.

 

She remembered fading, drifting, and then he had burst into her dimming awareness like a beacon and she had clung to him, almost dragging him down with her.

 

Sensing her distress, Master Plo put a hand on her shoulder and held her still. Rex tensed against the wall, but kept his place.

 

“Your Master poured too much of himself into you, keeping you stable, but,” Master Plo said, and nodded at Rex. Rex promptly moved, drawing back a curtain that separated the room into two equal portions. It revealed Skyguy, eyes closed, but breathing, Master Kenobi sitting next to him, eyes shadowed and more grey in his hair and beard.

 

“He is expected to fully recover,” Master Plo finished speaking. She watched Skyguy’s chest and rise and fall, and as if he could feel her watching him, his eyes fluttered open and he looked at her, a weak smile on his face.

 

 _Hey Snips_ , he seemed to say.

 

“Hey Skyguy,” she answered, and Master Kenobi looked between them, and let out a long, pent up breath.

 

“You two will be the death of _me_ , one of these days,” he muttered darkly, but not without affection, then he turned back to his former Padawan. “Rest, Anakin,” he said softly, and Ahsoka felt a surge of the Force and Anakin sank back into sleep.

 

“You should take that advice yourself, little ‘Soka,” Master Plo said. “There will be much to discuss when you are better, but for now, know that you are safe, and those who care for you watch over you.”

 

The advice seemed good, so she took it, and drifted back to sleep, comforted by the familiar presences all around her. Because she was safe, among clan, for the people she loved were the only home she had ever known.

 

* * *

 

Two days later, she stood before the Council. Much had been explained to her in the mean time. How Padme and Master Gallia had outmaneuvered Tarkin, how Anakin had found her and nearly killed himself saving her life. And how Master Sinube had kept pouring over the documents, finding odd digital footprints that convinced him the bomber was in the Temple, watching everything unfold.

 

“And that, my friends, is when I decided to check on Padawan Tano,” Sinube said, sitting in a low chair in deference to his advanced age. “It seemed like it would be the perfect opportunity to strike, because Ahsoka Tano had become evidence in and of herself.”

 

The rest of the Council were arrayed as usual, though Master Kenobi looked a little worse for wear, as though more than near death had just occurred. Strange, to think that near death was an experience they were used to now, but there it was. Ahsoka mentally shook herself and tried to keep paying attention, but her thoughts kept turning to what Barriss had said, her mad ranting that had nevertheless struck a cord in her mind.

 

“I did not have time to raise the alarm, unfortunately, as Padawan Offee had to be countered immediately,” Sinbue continued. “Luckily, Knight Skywalker arrived in time to see to Padawan Tano.”

 

“Thank you for your report, Master Sinube,” Master Windu said, dipping his head to the elderly Jedi. “This clarifies matters, and I do not think we have any further questions.”

 

“Of course, my friends,” Sinube said, and gathered himself up to leave. As he left, Ahsoka gave him a small bow, in respect and thanks, for what he had done for her. Sinube, more lively than he had been in a long time thanks to this bright young woman, gave her a wink as he left the Council chambers.

 

That left Ahsoka standing before the Council again. Anakin was there as well, standing to the side and watching, a swirling mix of worry and pride. She tried to stand tall and ignore the lingering pain on her throat, still finding it hard to believe that _Barriss_ of all people had done this to her.

 

“You have passed through a crucible,” Master Windu said, and she thought she could detect a quiet kind of respect in his eyes. “I see no need to examine you any longer, nor does anyone on this Council.”

 

“Thank you, Masters,” she said, and although the Order had not initially supported her, been part of the reason why she ran, that they had come around, that they had faith in her made those words seem a little less bare and cold than Windu’s voice did.

 

“In addition, you have proven that you are more than a Padawan. I can only speak for myself, but I believe you have passed the Trials of Skill and Courage. Your skill speaks for itself, in your flight against your own Master and the troopers, and you showed great courage in standing before us,” Master Windu continued, and she felt her eyes go wide with surprise. They were talking about her _Knight Trials._

 

“I suggest she has also passed the Trial of Spirit, for staying the course while… _almost_ all around her doubted her,” Master Ti said, and Ahsoka turned to see her hunt-mother looking at her with a profound kind of approval.

 

“She has also passed the Trial of Flesh, enduring Padawan Offee’s assault,” Master Kenobi said. Ahsoka saw in his eyes a quiet kind of sorrow for her, for her pain, and something deeper. Something she couldn’t quiet figure out. Behind her, she felt Anakin nearly exultant, and she hoped he was keeping that in their training bond only and not broadcasting to the entire Council.

 

“Padawan Tano passed the Trial of Insight as well, when she saw before all others that there was more to the bombing than was obvious,” Master Plo said, and she felt her heart hammer in her chest.

 

 _They couldn’t,_ she thought, _they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t turn this… **farce** into her Knighting ceremony._ She had wanted only ever to be a Jedi, to uphold the Order’s ideals, to help people, to be a Knight one day and a Master after. But not like this. Not on the back of death and tragedy and betrayal.

 

“More than a Padawan you are,” Master Yoda said, watching her with a clear gaze. “But young still, much to learn you have.”

 

“And while it seems a tradition of this line to become a Knight by meeting the challenge of a Dark Side practitioner,” Master Mundi said, eyeing Master Kenobi and Anakin dryly, “even your Master was at least of age before being Knighted.”

 

“She’s passed the Trials, you said!” Anakin broke in, clearly on edge and frustrated. “Why shouldn’t she be a Knight?”

 

“Perhaps there is a middle path,” Master Gallia suggested, raising one elegant hand to forestall Anakin’s irritation. “We must acknowledge your growing skill and the growth you yourself have experienced, Padawan Tano,” she said, sensing Ahsoka’s hesitation about the whole matter.

 

“To pretend you were still only a Padawan would be disingenuous to everyone involved, yourself most assuredly, but you are not yet a Knight. You lack certain knowledge about the Force and your more subtle skills still need work, however, there is an old tradition that we might see fit to resurrect. Indeed, it might see wider use as many of your age-mates grow in experience and skill and go through their own trials,” Gallia said, and that brought her the sharp attention of every Master on the Council.

 

Ahsoka shot a confused look at Anakin, who only shrugged and shook his head, not knowing what they were talking about, as he retreated back to his allotted spot.

 

“Merit there is in Adi’s idea,” Yoda said, and closed his eyes thoughtfully. He _hmmm’d_ , in that gravelly way he had and sought direction from the Force. The Council seemed to wait on bated breath as the Grandmaster of the Order considered Master Gallia’s oblique suggestion.

 

Then Yoda opened his eyes and smiled, his ears perked up.

 

“Knight-Errant you may be, if wish it, you do,” Yoda said, and there were nods all around, nods of agreement.

 

“If I may ask, Masters, what does entail?” she asked, having never heard of it. Clearly she needed to brush up on Jedi history.

 

“It is an old title, given to a Padawan who, like you, has been through a great deal and learned much, but still requires more refinement,” Master Rancisis said, ever a student of history, and she thought she detected a little emphasis on the word _refinement_. She resisted the urge to smirk and roll her eyes. “You will have more autonomy, assignments of your own, though you will still be expected to learn from and support your Master. However, you will have the freedom to work with other Masters from time to time, in order to further your education. Becoming a full Knight will require another Trial, which will be at the discretion of the Council to administer.”

 

She hesitated.

 

“What are you waiting for Ahsoka?” Anakin asked softly, but she couldn’t answer him. Not now. It seemed perfect, a half-way point, a balance point, and her full Knighthood would require more work, which she felt comfortable with. But still. Something nagged at her.

 

“What’s going to happen to Barriss?” she asked, and she saw flickers of consternation from Master Rancisis and Koth and a few others, but oddly not Master Windu.

 

“She will be investigated by the tribunal of the Jedi, the Senate and the Army that was originally intended for you,” Master Windu said, looking at her over steepled fingers, eyes unreadable. “Whatever the outcome, we have found that she does need psychological assistance, and that will be provided for her.”

 

Ahsoka nodded, and knew, _knew_ she should let it go. But this wasn’t about attachment, she didn’t think. It was something else, a need to understand, to know the _why_ not just the what and how and who.

 

“I would like to talk to Barriss first, and then I will give this Council my answer,” she said, head up, knowing she had made the right decision even if no one else agreed with her. She knew it was the right thing to do, though the frustrated mutterings among the Council indicated that they didn’t see it that way.

 

“Speak with Padawan Offee you may,” Yoda said cutting through the noise. “Though find the answers you seek, you may not.”

 

“Thank you, Master Yoda,” she said, bowing, and then she heard, as though for her montrals alone a quiet, half whispered: “Thank me yet, you should not.”

 

And a shiver of dread went through her at that, because she now worried she might not be ready for what she did find in the young woman who had once been her friend.


	11. She Rises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Master Djinn Altis – Leader of a sect of Jedi who broke away from the Order and are like... hippy Jedi. They have relationships and take on adults to train. From Karen Traviss’ Clone Wars novels.

Barely a handful of hours after she had tried to make it all right, to save the young woman she loved from darkness, Mace Windu stood before her. Her, in her cell, and him tall and imposing and imperious, as many of the Jedi had become. It would be their doom, she knew that as she knew everything else that was true: in her heart and bones.

 

“Padawan Offee, you have committed serious offences against the Order, against the Republic, and against a fellow Padawan,” he said to her, eyes dark and full of judgment.

 

“You do not see,” she hissed, maintaining her control. She could admit that she lost control with Ahsoka, that she had perhaps gone too far, but it was too late to change it all now. But perhaps she could plant a few more seeds of doubt amongst the Order, though the mind of Mace Windu was, she thought, impervious to doubt. And inflexible.

 

“I see before me a criminal, and the Order wishes to know how far you have Fallen. You will be put through a Force examination,” he told her, and she felt a flicker of panic. An old custom, a remnant of the Jedi Civil Wars when trust was scarce. They were also deeply dangerous.

 

“And who will examine me?” she asked, drawing close to the pane of transparent steel that separated them, meeting his eyes and making it a challenge. They would not see her cowed.

 

“I will,” he said flatly, “because Padawan Tano requested that I perform _her_ Force examination. However, now that you have revealed yourself, that is no longer necessary. But where she showed bravery, you have only shown yourself to be a coward, one who hides their actions and allows others to take the blame.”

 

That brought her up short. Windu was not known for having much in the way of mercy. This would not be pleasant, to say the least.

 

“Then come, _Master_ Windu, test me, comb through my mind and tear me apart,” she snarled. “And see what the Jedi have made me.” He only raised one eyebrow and sank into a meditative state. She could feel his mind reaching for hers, through the transparent steel, through the Force, and she thought about fighting him, about making him work for access to her mind, but then she decided to let him see, to let him know how the Jedi were to blame.

 

So she opened her mind, let him in, and showed him the error of his ways.

 

_Pain, so much pain, they cry out for mothers they never had._

_Heal them, save them, for what? Save them for another day, another drip of hurt, a death in a narrow gully or among the cold, uncaring stars?_

_Their pain, so much pain. It will not **stop** , nothing stops the pain._

_Their souls are on fire. Their hearts broken, even when she heals their bodies, their minds are never the same._

_Men, men of flesh and blood and orders and programming._

_But they die screaming like anyone else._

_Too long, too much. It sinks in, it becomes a part of her, until she does not know where her pain stops and their pain begins._

_All this suffering, all this anguish. For what?_

_Jedi._

_Peacekeepers._

_Death-bringers. Death-dealers._

_War-mongers._

**_Slavers._ **

_Make them see. Make them **know**._

_Will not listen, will not understand. Words come out of her mouth but she is told her words are wrong, her thoughts are wrong._

_And the darkness began to creep in, into her soul, drowning her, pouring out her mouth like blood, choking her on it._

_Words and thoughts are not enough. The Jedi only understand action now, violence._

_Let the war come home. Let them feel the pain that this galaxy feels, that our slaves feel._

_And so she unleashed death._

In her mind, Barriss Offee screams, she rages, she throws at him very last scrap of pain and suffering that she felt, that was imposed on her by healing the troopers, that had mingled and blended in her soul until all that was left was the hurting. Her body screams with her, reliving every moment in sharp clarity, in vivid intensity, and he lets her go. She slumps to the floor, crying hot tears of anger and hurt.

 

She does not see him leave. She does not care. There is nothing left to care for.

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka walked down into the holding cells again, leaving behind the chaos of the Council chambers, Anakin all but crowing his pride into the Force. Master Kenobi, in contrast, an oddly shadowed presence, and while several others were simmering pots of frustration about her in general.

 

She had not realized how far down and deep these cells were, set away from everything, and it made her wonder how long she had laid on the edge of death until Anakin had showed up. Shaking her head, she turned her mind from that and tried to focus on what she came here to do: talk to Barriss.

 

The Council had given her a day, until tomorrow morning, to make her choice. Master Plo had argued for this, stating that when Padawans became Knights normally, they were given time to collect their thoughts, and Masters Ti and Gallia had backed him. So. She had a day.

 

And a conversation with the woman who had tried to kill her to help her decide.

 

It was strange, being this side of the transparent steel, and Barriss sat on the narrow bed, back to the wall with her eyes closed. As Ahsoka approached, the young woman opened her eyes and turned her head, a sneer curling her lips.

 

“Come to gloat?” Barriss said acidly, the remnants of the kind, thoughtful young woman she had been seeming to evaporate before her very eyes.

 

“No, to understand,” Ahsoka said softly, sitting herself on the floor in front of the cell. Her answer made Barriss tilt her head to the side, as though evaluating her. Then she stood and sat across from her.

 

“You want to understand? Then understand that Mace Windu turned my mind inside out, and I know what he will think. That being a healer, I was too sensitive to the suffering of the troopers I worked with, that their pain drove me out of my mind, but he is _wrong_!” she snarled. Ahsoka’s breath caught, eyes wide, knowing that Barriss had been working as a healer, getting the troopers ready to go back to the front lines, but she had never considered what kind of danger that might pose for her friend.

 

“He is wrong,” Barriss continued, more passionate than Ahsoka had ever seen her before, “it was their pain that made me _see_ , their pain that made everything so clear. The Jedi are to blame, Ahsoka. They made this war, they prolong it, and they turn themselves into soldiers when they should be peacekeepers. And worst of all, they are trying to turn all of us into soldiers, too. You do not see it, you do not believe me, do you?”

 

Ahsoka listened to her friend, and knew that Barriss, at least, believed the truth of her own words. As for what she thought, certainly Ahsoka knew that the troopers were not as well-treated as they should be. Jedi like Master Vos saw them as disposable, and Krell had orchestrated the horror-show that had been Umbara. She had seen first hand what that had done to the survivors, and she recalled teaching some of the 501st how to let go of their pain and anger, and how Rex had been a mass of self-hatred afterwards. Krell had gone dark, in an attempt to impress the Sith. Barriss had let the darkness of the war into her soul.

 

Or she had been infected by it.

 

Ahsoka wasn’t sure if there was a difference, and also wondered if _she_ had been changed in ways she couldn’t even see yet by the war.

 

But she knew there was a truth in there. Somewhere. The Force seemed to ring with it.

 

“You see it, don’t you?” Barriss asked eagerly, shifting forward, leaning on the transparent steel with her palms. Ahsoka shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable.

 

“I see reasons to doubt that the Order has always taken the right course of action, yes, but I have always tried to do what was right,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

 

“You have, within the confines of Jedi teachings,” Barriss said, eyes narrowed and tone flat.

 

“Was trying to kill me right, too? Or betraying me? I thought we were _friends_ Barriss,” Ahsoka bit out. Barriss, to her credit, looked away, drawing back from the transparent steel, something like shame in her eyes and set of her shoulders.

 

“I never stopped loving you, Ahsoka, stopped caring. Do you not see?” she asked, meeting Ahsoka’s eyes again with her own imploring expression. “Do you not understand? I did not intend for you to be blamed, but when it turned out that way, I thought… I thought I could _save you_. You would not become like them. Better dead than soulless, Ahsoka, because the Jedi are losing their souls in this war, do not doubt that.”

 

Ahsoka felt tears in her eyes and a lump form in her throat, because whatever truth was in Barriss’ words, it was also true that her friend was, in a way, dead, that she had gone mad and lost the part of herself that Ahsoka had loved so dearly.   She knew the war had done this to Barriss, and the Jedi had done this to one of their own, pushing her beyond her limits, not giving her the chance to heal her own mind after she healed the bodies of others.

 

And this was the Order to which she had dedicated her life and future.

 

“I… I have to go,” she said, standing.

 

“You will come back, yes?” Barriss asked, pressing herself against the transparent steel, “You will not leave me here, Ahsoka, will you?” she pleaded.

 

Ahsoka had always thought herself brave, courageous. A huntress in the old ways, but this pushed her to the very limits of what a heart could endure. To see a friend, someone she loved, like this, Ahsoka wanted to run, to never come back to this blighted place.

 

“No, I won’t leave you. I’ll come back,” she whispered, a promise, a declaration she couldn’t go back on. And the light in Barriss’ eyes nearly made her flee. But she stood her ground, and knew she could not abandon her friend, even after everything.

 

And perhaps, that was the beginning of forgiveness.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan had a dilemma on his hands. In the drama of the last few days, he had kept quiet about all that he had learned, but he knew that it was far past time address things that had long gone unrecognized. He had meditated on it, instead of going to the Council, because he was, if he was perfectly honest, tired of politicking. However, with Ahsoka granted a day to make her choice and the Separatists oddly quiet, there were no other pressing concerns distracting either himself or his former Padawan.

 

At Anakin’s largely unused rooms, Obi-Wan knocked on the door.

 

“Uh, come in!” Anakin called, and Obi-Wan saw him shutting down a holocomm-call as he entered. Obi-Wan was fairly certain, at this point, whom Anakin was talking to, though he would admit he was hardly surprised.

 

Anakin had always had trouble with letting go, and thus the root of all his problems.

 

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin said excitedly, a bright smile on his face, and hurriedly pushed aside some of his mechanical tinkerings to make a space for his former Master to sit down.

 

“It’s good to see you. I haven’t, I mean, there hasn’t been enough time to thank you for everything that you’ve done, for Ahsoka, for me. So… thank you,” he said, more effusive than normal. And Obi-Wan, had he not felt what he had felt that night, might have let his misgivings slide, might have ignored his own apprehensions. But that would not work any longer.

 

“I am glad this worked out well, and I have every confidence Ahsoka will choose what is right for her,” Obi-Wan said, couching his language carefully. Ahsoka was headstrong like his own Padawan, but in a different way. Anakin would charge like a bull at a gate when he got worked up, but Ahsoka would simply refuse to let things go once she was convinced she was right. What was right for her, he was all too aware, might be to leave the Order, though he hoped she would not. For Anakin’s sake surely, but also for her own. The galaxy was dangerous for a lone Force-wielder these days.

 

“But you didn’t come to talk about that, did you?” Anakin asked, always perceptive when it was troublesome for Obi-Wan.

 

“No, I didn’t. I believe we need to have a talk, Anakin, one we should have had a long time ago,” he said. Anakin frowned in confusion. Likely, Anakin didn’t even remember what he had revealed about himself to Obi-Wan that night, in dropping every last barrier he had.

 

“About what?” Anakin asked, suddenly wary. Obi-Wan resisted the urge to sigh, to do what he had always done and lecture the boy. Instead, he let his hands fall in front of him and faced his former Padawan, his friend. His brother.

 

“That you’ve been walking down a dangerous path, ever since this whole war started, that you’re still very firmly attached to Senator Amidala, and that, Anakin, I believe you have used the dark side of the Force on more than one occasion,” he said simply, no recrimination in his voice, no accusations, just a simple statement of facts in the most patient tone he could muster.

 

Anakin stiffened, like he’d been physically struck, and his blue eyes were on fire with indignation. Indignation that, now that Obi-Wan knew, hid a morsel of guilt.

 

“If that’s the case, why haven’t you gone to the Council?” Anakin asked through clenched teeth, standing quickly and beginning the pace the room, waving his arms about dramatically. “Or did you want me to confess before then? Well, there’s _nothing_ to confess, _Master_. I’m a good Jedi, I’ve done _everything_ anyone has asked of me, and it’s still never enough is it? I have to be perfect! Be…”

 

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan interjected, raising his voice, but not yelling. Anakin had never reacted well to yelling, the vestiges of his life as a slave. “I have not gone to the Council because that is not in your best interests!”

 

Anakin stopped mid-rant, his mouth hanging open in honest surprise. Obi-Wan could not resist the smile that tugged at his lips, finally seeing his former Padawan completely gob-smacked.

 

“Now, will you sit again so that we may talk? Properly? Honestly?” Obi-Wan asked. Still looking like a stunned fish, Anakin sat, and then looked at him suspiciously.

 

“Are you on drugs? Or even really Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Anakin asked suspiciously.

 

“That is a disheartening set of questions. Do you really think I care so little for you Anakin, that I would abandon you to an Order that is increasingly paranoid and precipitous in its actions?” Obi-Wan countered, and then shook his head. Then Anakin ducked his head, shoulders slumping, and that was Obi-Wan’s answer.

 

“Oh, Anakin, I regret more than you could ever know that you thought that, that you could so doubt my care for you. The fault is mine, then, for never telling you clearly before now,” he said quietly, reaching out and putting a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

 

Anakin closed his eyes, and Obi-Wan could feel his internal conflict. A mixture of fear and anxiety, an overwhelming desire to be more than the slave he was born as, a deep well of love, and horror at himself for his past transgressions, real or imagined. He briefly debated what he could say to the man, to lessen the sting of this, but instead opened up their old training bond, never completely severed: it had served them too well in this war. Obi-Wan projected all the love and pride he felt for his former Padawan, the boy who had come into his life all unasked for, but who had become the man Obi-Wan could now not imagine his life without.

 

Looking up at him, Anakin’s face was a mix of wonder and worry, and Obi-Wan knew they had a long way to go.

 

But this was a start.

 

“We do not need to talk now. You should have time to collect your thoughts, and perhaps speak to the Senator,” Obi-Wan said, giving Anakin the time to process this. “But we need to speak soon, my friend.”

 

“Yes, I… I am sorry, Obi-Wan. I tried so hard, so hard to be perfect, to be like you, but I never did manage it did I?” he asked, a little something like brokenness in his eyes, and Obi-Wan’s heart nearly broke in sympathy.

 

“I am hardly perfect, Anakin. No one is, but what matters is that we keep trying, that we do not give up on ourselves, even when we face the darkness in our own hearts,” Obi-Wan said, “and know that we need not face that darkness alone.”

 

Then Anakin’s comm chimed, shattering the moment, but Obi-Wan contented himself that he had made more progress with Anakin in the last ten minutes than he had in the last ten years. Later, he would kick himself and lament his own short-sightedness in trying to make Anakin fit the Jedi mold when he should have remembered that Anakin was the Chosen One. He was meant to bring balance to the Force, and Obi-Wan began to wonder if that meant breaking the Jedi mold in order to do so.

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka closed the comm, having just informed Anakin that she needed to take a walk to clear her head. She appreciated his offer to accompany her, but she knew what he would do. He would talk up the position, make it clear that he expected her to stay, to become a Knight-Errant, to not leave.

 

But that didn’t mean it was the right choice for her.

 

In theory, she should go the Room of a Thousand Fountains or some other perfectly designed peaceful place and meditate. However, since the start of the war, meditation by stillness had not come as easily for her. She could still meditate, but it was easier on a ship with the quiet thrum of the hyperdrive in her montrals, or after a battle and surrounded by the quiet breathing (and occasional snores) of the troopers. Places that were alive and peaceful at the same time.

 

But there were no hyperdrives to listen to, and she wasn’t sure if she really should order a battalion of clones to sleep just so she could meditate.

 

Well, she knew she shouldn’t, and they’d tease her about for _ages_ afterwards.

 

Instead, she felt something calling her out into the maze of the city-planet itself, where she could be alone and yet surrounded by millions of others, where the bustle and hum of life was steady and constant and seemed to connect her to the Force better than the tinkling fountains. There was something about rising out of the chaos of _life_ to find a point of calm that worked for her.

 

And at this point, she would do whatever worked if it would help her figure this out.

 

* * *

 

Padme held Anakin close that night, giving both of them much needed comfort with gentle touches and soft sighs. But there was still something bothering him. She could tell, she had always been able to tell.

 

“Talk to me, Ani,” she said, lying on her side next to him, letting her fingers trail down his chest. He captured her hand in his own and brought it to his lips.

 

“It’s… a lot of things,” he admitted after a moment, which told her much about his mood. Normally she had to drag things out of him, but she wouldn’t look this gift bantha in the mouth.

 

“I don’t know if Ahsoka will take the Council up on their offer, for one,” he admitted, “and she won’t talk to me about it.”

 

“Ani, I love you dearly, but you do have a problem with seeing things from other people’s point of view,” she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek to take the sting out of her words. “Ahsoka already knows what you would say to her, but she doesn’t want to be told what to do, Ani. She wants to find perspective.”

 

“What’s wrong with _my_ perspective?” he asked grumpily, and she let out a little giggle at that. “What?” he asked, slightly offended at her amusement.

 

“Oh, Ani. There’s nothing wrong with it, but she already knows what it is. She needs to find the path that she can walk and be right with herself, not your expectations for her,” Padme said, and she watched him digest this idea for a few moments. He twisted his lips in distaste, but when he didn’t comment further, she counted that a small victory in the never-ending quest to get Anakin to stop trying to impose his view of the galaxy upon it. She knew it came from a good place, but he had ever been someone to see things in black-and-white terms.

 

Then he shifted uncomfortably and looked away, muttering something. She frowned.

 

“What was that?” she asked, then he glanced at her from out the corner of his eye, looking sheepish of all things.

 

“I said, Obi-Wan knows about us, knows, I think, what I did on Tatooine and he wants to talk about it, but he’s not going to the Council, and…” he trailed off, taking a breath, looking uncomfortable and hopeful at the same time.

 

“Maybe its time we stopped hiding then, Anakin. Stopped staying in the dark,” she said, a surge of hope in her own heart. She knew sneaking around like this was no way to live, no way to love, and she knew it wore on Anakin as well.

 

He shot her a sharp grin, a lustful light in his eyes.

 

“Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like what we do in the dark,” he said, and levered himself up over her again.

 

“You’re incorrigible,” she said with a laugh in her eyes and a smile on her lips, and drew him down to her.

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka had wandered fairly extensively, the Force guiding her feet as she followed paths and took trips on the public trams, and she found herself at the GAR barracks. Specifically, she found herself hanging off the side of the building at Rex’s window.

 

It was easy enough to find her Captain, even when he was asleep, he still felt like Rex.

 

She opened the window with the Force and slipped in. And then remembered that she really should give soldiers warning before sneaking into their quarters. Rex was sitting up in his bed, the covers around his waist and a blaster pointed at her head.

 

“Hey Rexter,” she said cheekily. He stared at her impassively before sighing and pointing the blaster up, turning the safety back on and stowing it in the holster he hung off the bed.

 

“Commander,” he said, a note of disapproval in his voice. “You shouldn’t be here.”

 

“Probably not, but my feet brought me here,” she explained, and obligingly turned around as he pulled on some clothes.

 

“Well, your feet should get you back to the Temple. I heard from the General, they’re going to make you a, whatsit, Knight-Errant. Shouldn’t you be in some kind of meditation, contemplating your place in the galaxy or something?” he asked dryly, and she tilted her head at him as she turned back around once he was dressed.

 

“I was meditating, in the city, trying to figure out what to do, if I should take the offer or not, and I ended up here,” she explained. “I figure that means what I really need is to talk it through with a friend. Specifically, you.”

 

“Why me?” he asked, and it only had a slightly plaintive undertone. She had heard him say that before, when Skyguy did something crazy, but this was the first time he said it about her. Or, in her hearing at least.

 

“Because you never gave up on me, and I trust you,” she said, the words and the truth falling into her mind as she spoke. He paused for a moment, looking at her as though considering something, something he had never thought of until now.

 

“I suppose that’s a good a reason as any, better than others,” he allowed, and then stood. “But we’re not talking about this on an empty stomach.”

 

“Dex’s?” she asked, a bright, eager grin on her face.

 

“Dex’s,” he agreed, a similar kind of light in his eyes.

 

It didn’t take them long to get to the diner, and even though it was late, the place was still open. The bell on the door rang as they entered, but the handful of other patrons didn’t even look up. Dex’s eyes widened as he saw them come through the door, this time in genuine happiness instead of worried surprise.

 

“Kid! Take a seat, be right with you,” the Besalisk called out, and they took a booth this time, sliding onto the red synthaleather. It was only a moment before Dex was there.

 

“Glad you got cleared, kid,” Dex said, grinning. “On the house, in celebration. Just don’t eat me out of house and home, alright?”

 

“You got it Dex. How about…” she started, caught Rex’s eye, and then looked back to Dex. “All the waffles you can spare? With ice cream and all the unhealthy stuff Master Kenobi hates?” Laughing, his rotund belly shaking, Dex agreed, and soon they were up to their eyes in waffles and enough sugar to make Master Kenobi start lecturing.

 

“Alright,” Rex said after a few minutes of downing enough sugar to put a normal human into a diabetic coma, “what’s hanging you up about this?”

 

“I’m trying to figure out what’s right for me, and if that actually matters,” she admitted with some difficulty. She wanted to be a Jedi, and Jedi were supposed to be selfless. To a point. Finding that point, here, seemed harder than ever before.

 

“Depends, I suppose,” Rex said thoughtfully. “But I think, maybe, if you have the chance to make choices for yourself, you should do what you feel is right. Not everyone gets that chance, you know.” The comment was pointed, coming from a trooper, but that in and of itself was why she trusted him so much. Never afraid to be honest, even with himself, Rex.

 

“But what if… what if what’s right for me will keep me from helping to make it right for other people?” she asked, the question that had been nagging at her finally articulated. She could leave. Could walk her own path and find a truth out there, somewhere, could leave behind an Order that, she could see, was fracturing. Try to help where she could and how she could on her own.

  
Or she could stay.

 

And try to change things from the inside. It would be messy and hard and push her to her limits. It might even compromise her very self. But sitting across from Rex, it was hard to deny that leaving would mean she was giving up any chance at real change.

 

Master Altis’ sect showed her that. They were honest and true to themselves, but were not a part of the Order and it only gave the Order reason to not change.

 

“I think you know that’s only a choice you can make, Ahsoka,” Rex said, his golden eyes serious and intent. “But whatever you choose, I’ll understand, for what its worth.”

 

She smiled then, her heart full at his words.

 

“I know, Rex, and its worth a lot,” she said simply. Then they talked of other things, of how the rest of the 501st had collected a fair bit of credits when she had been proven innocent, how Fives had been working out how to slice Republic security measures for her, and they finished their waffles, waving good-bye to Dex as they left.

 

He walked her back to the Temple, leaving her at the steps up to the public entrance. She turned once at the door, and saw him still there. He nodded to her, bidding her goodnight, and she made her way up to the rooms she shared with her Master. They were empty, Anakin off somewhere as usual when they were on Coruscant. Then she saw the light blinking on her datapad.

 

Even though it was late, and she only had a few more hours to make her choice, she picked up the pad and read the message.

 

It was from Padme.

 

Smiling in spite of herself, she opened the message and read it.

 

_Dear Ahsoka,_

_Master Skywalker told me about the Council’s decision, and all the messy details if I am honest, and while he expressed a certain concern about your choice, I wanted you to know that I understand why you might hesitate. This situation has made you doubt the organization that you were raised in and raised to believe in. I know that feeling well, and I do not say this to urge you to stay in the Jedi Order as I have stayed in the Republic. I tell you this to let you know that you are not alone in your doubts._

_Know, however, that only when we doubt can we have faith, and leaps of faith can be hard. They test us, sometimes past our limits, but in the end they always teach us something. Think on what you have learned through this ordeal, and know that either way you will find a way to remain yourself. Who you are is not determined by others, but how you relate to the galaxy around you and the choices you make. Regardless of your choice, you shall always be you._

_And I am proud to call you my friend, no matter what you decide._

_Love,_

_Padme_

_Post-script: An interesting bit of etymology I came across in researching the Knight-Errant position. The position itself is rather old, but what is more interesting is what ‘errant’ means. In one sense it is someone who is wayward, someone who is lost. An older meaning, however, is that of a wanderer, someone going on a journey in search of something of important. Perhaps, you might focus less on the Knight and more on the Errant and continue to find your own path._

 

Ahsoka looked up from the pad and out the window, gaze fixed on a point only she could see. And there in the small Padawan room, stomach full of waffles, heart comforted by Rex’s understanding, and soul inspired by Padme’s passion, she made her choice.

 

* * *

 

At dawn she presented herself to the Council. She had foregone sleep, finding her peace at last, and now she stood with her head held high. This time it was not a fierce determination that lifted her chin, but a knowledge of where she stood in the galaxy and the future she could make. For herself. And those she cared for.

 

Anakin stood nearby, a tightly controlled ball of anxiety for her, but she pushed that out of her mind.

 

“Padawan Tano, made your choice, have you?” Master Yoda asked her, his voice firm, that of the Grandmaster of the Order, not the playful teacher or the wise councilor.

 

“I have,” she declared, drew a breath, and then: “I accept.”

 

Her Master, former Master now, she supposed, let out a long, slow breath, and she caught Master Kenobi’s and Master Ti’s smiles, and even Master Plo’s nod of approval.

 

“Kneel, then, Padawan,” Master Yoda said, and as she did, he signaled for her Master to come forward. He did so slowly, and drew is saber. She looked up at him, feeling his pride as clear as day, and she knew she could never tell him how near a thing this was. Instead, she smiled back as he solemnly and with all due ceremony used his lightsaber to cut her silka beads from her headdress and caught them before they could hit the ground.

 

“Rise, now, Ahsoka Tano, Knight-Errant,” Mace Windu said.

 

Then effortlessly, fluidly, she rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That concludes this fic! But you might have noticed that this is now part of the Knight-Errant series! Whooooooo!
> 
> Yes. An entirely new AU. We're going to be following Ahsoka (and Rex) a lot, yes, but I'm going to do my best to expand to other Jedi and clones, work more with Padme and Bail and the Admiralty and so much more! I'm taking this as a chance to really play and muck about in the Star Wars universe. 8D
> 
> Warning: I have NOT plotted this out, at least not entirely. So I don't know if this is a Fix-It, or if I will, as Charity_Angel said of my last series, break it more.
> 
> That said, I hope you all will join me for the ride, and know that I very much appreciate the kudos and most especially the comments. Any suggestions/feedback, super welcome.
> 
> Thank you for reading. <3


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